Dragonfire
by Spike 558
Summary: Meet the Dragonfire Reavers: A band of mercenaries in the Old World. This story chronicles their exploits and their battles against the many forces of Chaos ...provided the price is right. Story now completed
1. Secrets of the Cytharai: Formation

**Author Introduction**

Hello and welcome to a brand new series. I have recently been partaking in roleplaying in the Warhammer world with a group of friends and have decided to chronicle the adventures of our band of mercenaries. Although these adventures have only just begun, these mercenaries, Torestorm, Lilly, Jarek, Gognak and Dimitri have found themselves in the employment of the Starlight Guardians: A secret organization of Elves and Dwarves, dating back before the War of the the Beard, dedicated to hunting down the followers of a lesser known Chaos God Cytharai.

My thanks to all those involved, the Blades of Valor: Tim (Torestorm), Karl (Gognak), Marc (Jarek), Emma (Lilly), Kathleen (Fanriel) and Andy (Dungeonmaster/Althion)

Anyway, here is the exploits of our band of adventurers. I hope you enjoy them!

Disclaimer: All characters are owned by the Blades of Valor. Everything else, by the Games Workshop

* * *

**Secrets of the Cytharai**

**I**

**Formation**

_H__e ran on wings of fear…._

_He could hear them coming for him…._

_The sound of their feet coming after him, growing louder as they neared….._

_He couldn't escape them no matter how hard he tried. _

_They always found him no matter how far he ran…._

_He could feel his legs tire but he tried to ignore them….._

_But he could still hear the clanking metal thunder behind him…._

_He could feel the fear grasp him, the sweat running down his forehead…._

_And then, a hand reached out to grab him….._

_

* * *

_

The man stood in the middle of the forest clearing. He wore a thick white cloak complimented with a hood pulled down over his face.

The dream had come again the night before – it was the second time this week. It came drifting into his mind like an echo of a life long forgotten.

The man shook his head in banishment of such thoughts – he should not let something superficial like dreams bother him. He currently has more important things to deal with.

At the man's feet was a pool of fresh blood – a pool that flowed from a corpse boasting huge teeth and green skin.

The man didn't flinch at the sight of the dead Orc. He had seen many deaths and killed many foes in his lifetime. He'd sent one more to his grave – and no doubt there'll be many more to follow.

He had no idea why the greenskin attacked – Maybe he was intruding on the Orc's territory. Or perhaps the Orc saw him as good a foe as any.

Either way, the man didn't care. The Orc was a fool to challenge him.

Just then, he heard the sound of feet approach from behind.

He didn't look around – he already knew who it was.

Behind the hooded man came a second man. He was of a huge frame, dressed in chain mail, and boasting a thick brown beard and arms as thick as trees. This newcomer knelt down, several feet from the hooded man.

"My lord" the bearded man said.

"Gather the men Konrad" replied a voice drifting from underneath the hood "We're moving"

"Where to, my lord?"

"Glory….."

* * *

Two pairs of eyes looked up at the twin doors before them.

The doors themselves certainly were an impressive sight: They were made from an ancient oak, the type that came from an age long gone. They were bordered with a gold lining – the type that revealed themselves to be genuine solid gold upon closer inspection.

The first pair of eyes belonged to a tall male. He bore handsome features, a pair of pointed ears and long hair that betrayed his status as an elf. Yet at the same time, his complexion was pale, He was dressed in enamelled dark green armour and green silk and in his hand carried an ancient but still wicked looking blade. On his face was an expression forged from years of experience and wisdom – but at the same time a sense of anticipation, the likes of which he himself had never seen before.

Or at least in his many years of existence.

(Now numbering in their hundreds)

The second pair of eyes belonged to a much shorter man – one who had a face half-hidden behind a bushy beard. A Dwarven warrior, bedecked in a well-crafted chain mail shirt and who carried an impressive looking rifle in one hand. He too bore an expression of experience but it was tempered with a sense of tedium.

Directly in front of the warriors was a pair of door handles fashioned in the shape of dragons.

The dwarf turned to the elf and cleared his throat.

"Well lad," he said in a voice as deep as a mine, "you've come this far. Beyond these doors is where your destiny awaits."

The elf said nothing.

"You do realise," the dwarf went on "from this point on there is no turning back."

"I've heard that many times before," the elf replied, his voice a mixture of honey and razor blades. "It didn't bother me then and I see no reason to start now."

The dwarf chuckled as he grasped the door handle.

"Then I suppose this is where it starts."

* * *

He knew they'd arrived long before he heard their approach.

Althion Redblaze sat at his desk, fashioned from the finest mahogany, surrounded by many papers. The elf was dressed in the robes of an Elven mage, and sported a long cascade of blonde hair.

Of course, they had the audacity to enter before knocking but he let it slide.

After all, as long as they knew their place…..

In marched a dwarf accompanied by an elf.

Althion raised an eyebrow. In the centuries following the calamity known as the War of the Beard (or to some the War of Vengeance), he thought he would never see the day a dwarf cooperate with the elves in such a manner.

But when a greater danger lies ahead, needs must….

The dwarf approached the desk and removed his helmet.

"Greetings _Commander._"

The elf blinked. No kneeling, no salute and a touch of venom on the second word? He wasn't the least bit surprised but this wasn't the first time such a thing had happened.

"And greetings to you Gognak," Althion replied, his voice melodic. "Be seated."

The dwarf named Gognak and the elf pulled up a chair each and sat before the desk.

"I trust the investigation is going smoothly?" the mage inquired.

Gognak glared.

"Reports are coming in that an officer of the Moonshadow Carnival is nearby. He's far from the strongest in the chain of command but he's the best lead we've got."

"Excellent." Althion smiled. "And who is this?" he went on, eyeing Gognak's companion. "Is this the elf you were telling me about?"

The dwarf stiffened but nodded.

The elf stepped forward and made a small bow.

"Well then." Althion said "Torestorm is it? The Dreadlord?"

The elf named Torestorm nodded.

"Althion Redblaze," the mage said stretching out his hand.

Torestorm didn't respond. Nevertheless, the mage continued.

"I am the commander of the Starlight Guardians."

"Starlight Guardians?" Torestorm tersely inquired. "Who are you trying to fool? The Starlight Guardians are a myth."

"Oh no," Althion said, his mouth collapsing into a frown "We are no myth."

"Really?" Torestorm smirked. "Then how did an order of Dwarves and Elves manage to survive beyond the War of the Beard?"

"Vengeance," Gognak muttered under his breath but to little notice.

"We are the elder races." Althion said solemnly "We are few in numbers compared to the kingdoms of man. When a greater threat lies in a long-forgotten evil, we can't afford to indulge in such petty quarrels."

Gognak coughed but neither elf noticed.

"What?" Torestom scoffed. "So you're the real thing?"

Althion nodded.

"Then that must mean…." Torestorm began.

But then he stopped and grinned.

"The Gods of Cytharai?" Torestorm laughed "They're long dead and gone! You're chasing a legend!"

Althion said nothing. Immediately the smile vanished from the Dreadlord's face.

"There are no legends," the mage stated. "Small cults have persisted over the centuries but we of the Starlight Guardians have sought them out and eliminated them. The legend remains simply because we make it so.

"I have heard a great many things about you." Althion went on. "We could do with someone of your calibre."

Torestorm made no reaction.

"The last man to say something like that…." He started.

"….was the renegade mage named Siareth?" Althion finished. "Former adviser to Magnus Glint and ruler of Aldenheim?"

"You're well informed." The Dreadlord blinked.

"Oh but of course," Althion replied "we have agents everywhere. In any case however, we are in need of your skills. A cult has risen up in the Human Empire. They call themselves the Moonshadow Carnival and we're looking for mercenaries to work for us."

"Doing?"

"Mostly assassinations and striking at key targets, to prevent the spread of this cult."

A thoughtful silence ensued before Althion spoke again.

"If you want to strike against the hordes of chaos then this may be the perfect time to start."

Torestorm nodded before grinning a wolfish grin.

"Very well then," he said "you shall have my help."

* * *

It was the Imperial year of 2258 – six years since the Everchosen united the Chaos hordes under his banner in the time known as the Storm of Chaos. It was there however that the Imperium of man all stood together to halt the dark tide, together with allies from Bretonnia, the elves of Ulthuan and the Dwarven nations.

The forces of the Imperium emerged triumphant but at a horrific cost: Many great cities had crumbled, the nation of Kislev had received a nasty blow from which it seemed unlikely to recover and the forces of Chaos were now scattered - some of which establishing themselves in the empire unchecked. The Empire had been sent reeling, with many of its inhabitants now living in fear of rampant Chaos tribes raiding the roads and minor settlements.

The war may have been won but the blows dealt had left a greater, long-lasting impression.

Weissbruck was hardly a significant location on the massive land that is the Empire. If anything, it appeared no different than the many villages dotted throughout Reikland.

But it must have been worth something as it had recently courted some unwanted attention. Attention in the form of an attack by a raiding party consisting of a combined force of Orcs and goblins. It was anyone's guess why the green-skins decided to attack Weissbruck but the opportunity for plunder and killing some hated humies was a logical assumption.

In spite of the attack, however, the townspeople had managed to beat the greenskins off: Under the guidance of the Watch captain, one Heydrich Vogel, the populace stood alongside the soldiers in a ragtag force. Professional combatants stood alongside the determined and swords shared combat space with sickles and clubs. Victory eventually came but not without cost in the lives of men. Thus, the people of Weissbruck were in a state of recovery, whether tending to wounded or conducting repairs to any areas that were damaged.

Rumours were proliferating that the greenskins were amassed as a tribe under the name of the Black Axes. Some whispered that they had established a camp – but no one was willing to investigate. For rebuilding the town took a greater priority than chasing down stories.

And a lot less costly on the number of human lives.

Still, for any rogue, a town trying to recover presented the perfect time and place as any to fleece people for all the money they had.

Jarek Weissmann was a treasure hunter – or at least that's what he described his job. He made a living through entering forgotten tombs and dungeons and looting all the lost treasure and gold he could find.

It seemed like a laughable career choice but, so far, it had yielded some degree of success. After all, people will gladly pay through the roof to have something of ancient, priceless, historical value returned to safe hands. Strangely enough, once he had found something worthy of notice, it wouldn't be seen by anyone else ever again….

However, recently, Jarek's fortunes had taken a turn for the worse: The rumour mill, where his entire career was based upon, had run dry. The few rumours he tried to follow turned out to be either false or only worth a few measly coppers. So, for the time being, he had to resort to something else.

He had taken part in the battle against the Black Axes and fought a good fight – to the point that he was recognised for his bravery. Some elf approached him after the battle and offered him employment as a mercenary. Although bewildered by the offer, it didn't take Jarek long to see this as an opportunity to find even more treasure and he readily accepted.

Until the time the elf required him, Jarek made his way through the busy streets, his eyes darting left and right, trying to find some foolish noble's swollen purse just to tie him over.

With everyone focusing on getting their lives back on track, this would be the perfect time to go about his business without anyone noticing….

His eyes scanned around the busy street: He saw many people making their way through: Some carried building supplies, some carried food and medicines. Others looked tired and worn and still others looked glad to be alive following the recent Orc attack.

And at the both sides of the streets, merchants were busy trying to hawk their wares.

For not even an Orc raid will cease the constant pursuit of a profit.

Some loud shouting caused the tomb raider to look up – and there, on one corner was a man standing on a wooden box. He was dressed in ragged clothes, sported wild hair and a dirty beard, thus betraying his status as a flagellant.

The flagellant was raving about the dangers of the world and of indications of Sigmar's judgement against his people. But Jarek was hardly bothered: after all, the flagellant was here the day before, in the exact same spot.

"And the undead!" the flagellant was shouting "They are rising from their graves to come and crush you for your sins!"

Jarek raised an eyebrow. Undead this time? Yesterday it was Chaos.

Strangely no one seemed at all interested in the flagellant: Instead they hurried on past, seemingly more interested on getting on with their own lives than listening to some lunatic.

The tomb raider chuckled to himself before turning to go.

And then, it happened.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jarek caught the all-too familiar sight of gold.

He flicked his head around and caught sight of something sitting on, what appeared to be, a merchant's table. It was an artefact of some kind and, from his well-trained eye, one that was made of solid gold.

Immediately, everything ceased to matter to the tomb raider. All the people around him suddenly vanished and all the noises around him disappeared. He had no idea what that artefact was doing here in a busy marketplace like this but one's for certain:

It's one he's going to get himself.

Slowly, he began to move to towards the artefact.

He had gone halfway when it disappeared.

In an instant, Jarek came crashing back to reality. He blinked in disbelief – only to see a figure move quickly from the spot where the artefact was.

Jarek grew furious. Immediately he began moving to take up pursuit.

_That rat thinks he can steal my artefact?_ He thought. _Over my dead body!_

Strangely enough, as the tomb raider made his way through the crowds, they immediately began moving away, giving him room to move. He could've sworn he'd heard someone scream 'Stop Thief' but he didn't care to notice.

Driven by an unflinching determination, it didn't take long for Jarek to catch up with the thief. With a grunt, the tomb raider dived, catching the fleeing thief with a tackle, thus sending both the men crashing to the ground.

"Going somewhere?" Jarek snapped.

"Let me go you nosy bastard!" The thief retorted.

"Not without this!" The tomb raider grinned, knocking the thief out from behind. He then ripped the artefact from the now unconscious thief's fingers.

Just then a third voice rang out:

"Oh thank you very much!"

Immediately, Jarek looked up to see a woman approach. She was dressed in the robes of a Shallyan Priestess and she was smiling.

"Thank you sir," she said to the tomb raider. "You've caught that thief – he had stolen my statuette."

And in an instant, Jarek's gold lust subsided, thus allowing him to see the gold artefact for what it was.

A statuette of the goddess Shallya.

Jarek's face collapsed into horror as he'd realised what he had done.

He had picked up something absolutely worthless.

With an awkward smile, he handed the statuette back to the priestess.

"Thank you so very much" she said "The blessings of Shallya upon you"

The tomb raider smiled nervously before looking up to see the Watch hurrying towards the scene.

"Listen," Jarek said to the priestess. "Been nice talking to you but I can't hang around."

And with that he bolted.

"Wait!" called the priestess but the tomb raider was already gone.

"He could've at least told me his name," she muttered.

* * *

It was the early light of dawn. The streets of Weissbruck were cold and silent. No one was around – save for a solitary figure at the village gate.

Torestorm was waiting, his arms folded and his mouth moulded into a bemused scowl. Here he was, all set to go on his first assignment for the fabled Starlight Guardians and what do they have him do?

A rescue mission.

He came into this expecting assassinations and fighting the dread forces of Chaos – not to play someone's nursemaid. But no: Althion instructed him to rescue someone (or something, the mage didn't say) named Alabern.

And he was going to accomplish this task accompanied by a pair of human mercenaries.

This just keeps getting better and better.

Banality aside, this task was most likely a test of his skills – as well as that of these humans – but surely Althion could've granted him a better quest…

What, did the mage lose his grip on some human w…

Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps.

The Dreadlord looked up and was confronted by the sight of a human woman. She was dressed in the robes that designated her as a priestess.

So this was one of the mercenaries? Althion must be desperate….

The priestess looked up at the Dreadlord and smiled.

"Hello there!" She greeted, a voice bearing a Bretonnian accent. "I'm Lady Lilly."

The elf stared but said nothing. Undeterred the priestess continued.

"Are you with Althion?"

"Yes I am." Torestorm said.

"Well then." The priestess named Lilly said "I was told I would be under the command of an elf. So I am yours to command." she said, bowing low.

Torestorm blinked – perhaps having some allies would be beneficial….

"So tell me," he asked "why did you take on this mission? It can't be for the money, I wager…"

"Of course not," Lilly said with a chuckle "I've been busy healing those wounded in that orc attack. It was then that Althion approached me and offered me employment with his organisation.

"I suppose that as long as there are mercenaries willing to endanger their lives for coin, there will be those needing their injuries healed."

"What?" The elf grinned "Is being cooped up in a temple lacking in excitement?"

"Well it's funny you should say that" Lilly answered "Yesterday, I was healing some more of the wounded in the local marketplace when some thief ran off with my statuette of Shallya! Some kind soul managed to catch the thief and return the statuette but he ran off before I could thank him…"

Torestorm blinked. A chatterbox of a priestess? Oh Solkan help me, he thought, mentally smacking his forehead.

Just then, the elf and the priestess heard the sound of footsteps approaching. They both looked up to see a human man walking towards them. He was dressed in adventurer's leather and carried a well-used sword.

"You!" The priestess exclaimed.

Jarek stopped dead in his tracks.

"You?" He yelled "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question!"

"I'm here for some mercenary work!" Jarek snapped "What are you here for?"

"_I'm_ here for some mercenary work!" Lilly retorted.

The two humans blinked in disbelief as realisation hit.

"You gotta be kidding me…" the tomb raider murmured.

"Lilly, do you know this man?" Torestorm inquired.

"We met yesterday."

The elf smirked slightly– before realisation hit.

"There must be some kind of mistake" Jarek muttered.

_You're telling me_ the elf thought.

* * *

The elf and the two humans stood before the mountain. In front of then, carved in the mountainside, was a well-used wooden door.

"So what are we looking for?" Jarek demanded.

"We are looking for something called Alabern." Torestorm answered.

"Sounds promising" the tomb raider grinned.

"Sounds like more like the name of someone." Lilly noted

Almost immediately, the tomb raider's face grew disappointed.

"I wonder who?"

Torestorm said nothing: his mind was deep in thought, wondering what Althion was thinking hiring mercenaries.

Let alone these ones.

"We have an evil to slay," Torestorm growled, "Let's get to it."

And with that he advanced on the door.

Lilly and Jarek exchanged looks before following.

And with an almighty kick, Torestorm struck the door with such force that it was ripped from its hinges.

Pausing only to draw two lethal looking blades, Torestorm then marched into the darkness.

Behind him, Lilly lit up a lantern and followed the elf.

"Just remember," Jarek said, bringing up the rear "If we find any treasure, I automatically claim it!"

"No you don't, we take equal shares!" Torestorm declared.

The three comrades found themselves heading into a darkened hallway. By the light of Lilly's lantern, it was revealed to be made of walls carved from the rock and with large, damp flagstones as a floor.

They hadn't gone far before the priestess cleared her throat.

"Torestorm," Lilly inquired "Did Althion say exactly what we'll be fighting against?"

"No, he didn't" the elf replied, smiling to himself "But if this is indeed a rescue mission, we could be fighting anything."

"Did you hear something?" Jarek asked suddenly.

And with that something came whistling through the cold air. It was a volley of arrows.

"Ambush!" Torestorm shouted "Take cover!"

Using quick and agile movements, for which his race is known for, the elf managed to dodge out of the way. Lilly fell to her knees and ducked her head. Jarek however was not so lucky: an arrow buried itself in his shoulder. The tomb raider roared with pain.

"Jarek!" Lilly exclaimed "Hold still! I'll take care of that injury!"

"No time for that now!" Torestorm hissed. "We've got company!"

And then they came: Three pairs of red eyes advancing from the front and three more pairs of red eyes emerging from behind. The light from the lantern revealed green skin, small bodies and grins twisted with malevolence.

"Goblins," Jarek groaned. Forgetting his pain, he drew his blade. With a yell, he leapt into battle.

Lilly blinked but readied her staff.

"So you want a fight do you?" she growled at the green-skins.

The nearest goblin thrust its crude but wicked looking spear in Jarek's direction. Despite his injury, the tomb raider managed to evade this attack and charge into the green-skin. Jarek swung his sword in a wide arc and into the goblin's flesh. With a squeal of pain, the goblin looked on in horror as his spear arm was severed from the rest of his body. But it didn't have time to scream any further: The tomb raider backhanded the goblin across the face. The blow was done with such strength and force the goblin went crashing to the ground. And a nasty kick from Jarek's boot into the goblin's face finished the green-skin for good.

A second goblin advanced onto Jarek, his shield raised high. The tomb raider blinked before the arrow in his shoulder began throbbing with pain. Groaning, Jarek sank to his knees as the goblin before him continued to advance. Looking up, the tomb raider saw the crudely-made shield grow closer and closer. Groaning with pain, he formulated a desperate plan.

Reaching forward he grabbed the shield with his hands. Before the goblin knew what was happening, Jarek ripped it from the greenskins fingers. Jarek held the shield high for a split-second – before slamming it into the goblin's head. The goblin went down on his back. Seconds later, he then felt the tomb raider's blade drive itself deep into him.

Meanwhile, Lilly was facing a third goblin, her fingers gripped tightly around her staff. The greenskin grinned at her with evil red eyes and drove his spear forward. Reacting quickly, the priestess ducked down on her knees – and then she wielded her staff in a huge arc. The staff smashed into the goblin's feet and dislodging him, sending him crashing to the ground.

The goblin tried to get up but the priestess was already there before him. He then felt her boot crunching down between his legs. He screamed in pain. The goblin then felt the tip of the staff come battering down on his head before smashing his skull. He didn't feel it that time.

Elsewhere, Torestorm faced the remaining three goblins. He gripped his twin blades tightly and stepped forward.

And then he became a blur. Torestorm charged into the goblins with his blades carving deadly figures of eight. Utilising the speed elves are known for, he sliced through them at such a rate that the goblins didn't know what was happening. One minute the elf was there and the next he wasn't.

And then, Torestorm reappeared. He was behind the goblins, his back to them, on one knee and with his twin blades spread outward. And in the blink of an eye, the three goblins fell to the floor, each coughing up blood in their dying moments.

The elf then looked up to see the six dead goblins along with Lilly who was already attending to the wounded Jarek.

"Hmmm," he said "Seems you've done well."

Jarek looked up at him and forced a smile.

"Shall we continue then?"

* * *

After some time, the three mercenaries found themselves at a door.

Lilly reached for the handle when suddenly the quiet air was split by a raging din. It was the sound of a ferocious beast, the type that didn't take too kindly to being imprisoned.

Immediately all was silent.

They exchanged bewildered glances.

"….what was that?" Jarek murmured.

"You don't suppose that was this Alabern?" Lilly asked.

Torestorm leant forward and put his ear to the door. From the other side he could hear the sound of something snorting its contempt and striking the flagstones.

But the striking sound was distinctive – there was only one thing that could produce that sound.

Immediately the elf's face hardened.

"What's the matter?" Jarek asked "Can you hear something?"

"Lilly, I think you may be right" the elf said slowly "I think we may have found exactly what we've been looking for."

And with that, he opened the door, to reveal a dirty room.

And there, in the corner, stood what looked like a magnificent horse, sporting a glorious silver coat, a rich, golden mane and a large horn protruding from its forehead. Yet in spite of appearances, its hooves were stamping the flagstones and its eyes were wild and confused.

The comrades were awestruck.

"A unicorn…." Lilly gasped. "As I live and breathe…"

"So this is Alabern?" Torestorm said with astonishment, and eyes widened.

Jarek blinked but then he grinned.

"Now this is a treasure worth entering a goblin cave for," he said, before advancing towards the unicorn.

"Wait!" Torestorm yelled "Jarek! Don't!"

But the tomb raider refused to listen. Instead he kept walking.

"If the legends are true," Jarek mused "Then this beast has led a long life. Just think of how many people will be willing to pay for a steed such as this…"

Jarek was only within a foot of the unicorn when it happened. The unicorn gave him a look of contempt and let out an angry snort. Then, with a ferocious snorting bay, it reared up on its hind legs, front legs kicking out towards the man. Jarek blinked in horror – before the legs, and hooves, came smashing down on his shoulders, knocking him off to the floor. The tomb raider now found himself pinned to the flagstones, the hooves of an angry unicorn keeping him in check. Jarek shrieked in fear and held his hands up to, no matter how pitifully, defend himself from the unicorn's vengeance.

Lilly then turned to Torestorm.

"Do something!" She wailed.

"Why are you asking me?" The answer is obvious, he thought to himself.

"You're an elf right? You're good with horses!"

Torestorm nodded. He then moved forward, fixing the unicorn with a hard, unflinching gaze.

The unicorn looked up with an angry stare – but one that was tempered with age and wisdom. Meeting the elf's eyes, he sensed another soul, one who was also of an elder race. One who was not a greedy human, or an uncouth goblin but someone worthy of a mutual understanding.

Sensing the unicorn's attention and a sense of calm pervading through the anger, Torestorm bowed before the beast.

And then the unicorn came to standstill. His hooves stopped trying to strike Jarek and all sense of rage disappeared from its eyes. Then, he began to move. With the clip-clopping of hooves upon the flagstones, the unicorn made his way across around the rim of the cave. Torestorm watched the beast move with every step of the way, whilst Lilly made her way to the still-prone Jarek.

The unicorn made his way to the doorway. But before he stepped through, he turned back towards Torestorm.

_Thank you for saving me. You have my gratitude, _whispered a voice from within the elf's mind.

And with that, Alabern headed out of the cavern and to freedom.

Torestorm watched him disappear into the darkness, before turning to Jarek.

"Is he all right?" He asked Lilly.

"Just a lot of cuts and bruises but he'll be fine," came the reply "I thought horses' hooves could do more than that."

"True but wasn't just any horse. He could easily have done more damage, if he so chose." Torestorm mused.

"Dammit!" Jarek groaned "You're letting that thing go? It tried to kill me!"

"Well, that's what happens when you show disrespect," the elf grinned.

* * *

By mid-afternoon, the three had returned to Weissbruck. The journey back was a quiet one: Jarek was still nursing his injuries but was dejected: not just finding any treasure but the thought of letting that unicorn go. Torestorm was also looking rather solemn – it seemed that Althion was a powerful elf indeed and not one that should be trifled with. Only Lilly seemed glad to be out of the dungeon and still alive.

For now, they had returned to the building that appeared to serve as the headquarters of the Starlight Guardians. They were waiting in a room that resembled a barracks, upon instructions to wait here for their employer.

Jarek still seemed hit hard by his loss but at the same time he seemed somewhat eager – no doubt the idea of being paid for his efforts held some appeal. Torestorm on the other hand seemed on edge. Lilly also looked glum – her brow furrowing at the grim mood about.

She cleared her throat and turned to the elf.

"Torestorm?" she asked.

"Yes?"

"Where do you think Alabern went to?"

"Unicorns are an intelligent species and extremely loyal," the elf replied. "It is likely that it went far away from human interference."

A brief silence followed.

"What do you think Althion will have us do next?"

"Now that is a good question…." Jarek muttered.

Torestorm smiled.

Just then the door opened and they snapped to attention. Althion entered the room. However he was not alone: he came accompanied by a man: One who bore a droopy moustache, was dressed in leathers and fur, and carried a nasty looking crossbow in his hand. This man had a facial expression that bore signs of being in many a battle and a gaze that would make an ogre cower in fear.

The three mercenaries blinked at the newcomer, transfixed by his cruel gaze.

But if the man noticed he certainly didn't show it.

Althion cleared his throat.

"I must congratulate you all." he said. "You have all done very well."

"Alabern….?" Lilly started.

"He returned to me earlier this afternoon." the elf smiled "Unharmed and in good health. He wasn't too impressed with all of his rescuers however."

Jarek grimaced but said nothing.

"Now, you'll all be paid well for this task," the mage said "But first there is someone I'd like you to meet."

He motioned for the man with the crossbow to step forward.

"This is a warrior from Kislev." Althion went on "his name is Dimitri Shandrikova…"


	2. Secrets of the Cytharai: Reavers

**Secrets of the Cytharai**

**II**

**Reavers**

Once again, Torestorm found himself, along with Gognak, seated in Althion's office.

"A bounty hunter," the elf said. "You must be lacking in manpower."

Althion raised an eyebrow.

"It's the way of his profession" the elf replied "He needs criminals to hunt down and I can tell him where he can find them."

"Hmm true," the Dreadlord mused aloud. "But a bounty hunter of all people? Just how desperate are you for outside help?"

"As long as he has someone to hunt down he will work for us _without question_," the elf mage retorted, "all we need to do is to keep providing him with the appropriate information. After all, when you're hunting down criminals, what difference is there between a simple pickpocket and a leader of a Chaos cult?"

Torestorm paused before nodding with a sly smile.

Satisfied, Althion cleared his throat.

"Now I have a new assignment for you both," he said, addressing both Gognak and Torestorm. "Listen well:

"A member of the Starlight Guardians has gone missing. He is a Dwarven miner named Durgal and is believed to have disappeared investigating rumours of a group of hobgoblin bandits in the area."

"Ha!" Torestorm burst out. "You can't keep your people together! No wonder you and the Starlight Guardians need outside help!"

Althion glowered at the Dreadlord, before speaking again, this time his voice adopting an icy tinge.

"Well if you feel that way then perhaps I'm better off asking someone else to accomplish this task. Someone like a bounty hunter."

Upon hearing this Torestorm's smile evaporated in seconds.

"You do what you like lad," Gognak added, his voice steely "But I'm not leaving any of my kinsmen in the hands of the green-skins."

The Dreadlords face hardened and then he nodded and spoke.

"Very well then, you shall have my help."

Althion nodded.

"That's good to hear," he said. "Also, if there truly is a group of hobgoblins about, then I want them eradicated. Tell Dimitri I will pay extra for the head of their leader."

"So he's not a bounty hunter then is he?" Torestorm said. "He's your very own assassin."

"I thought mercenaries only cared for money – not where it came from," Althion retorted.

Again Torestorm fell silent but this time with a twisted grin. Gognak however seemed amused.

Satisfied with this response, Althion leant forward.

"You have your orders," he said "Don't let me down."

Gognak and Torestorm exchanged glances, bowed and nodded. They both got to their feet and headed for the door.

"Oh, there's just one last thing before you go," the elf mage said suddenly. "I may need a name for your group. For my records."

Torestorm breathed heavily.

"Oh I don't know," he pondered half-heartedly. "The Dragonfire Reavers?"

Althion blinked before nodding.

"The Dragonfire Reavers," he echoed. "Good name."

* * *

"So…Dimitri is it, yes?"

The Kislevite nodded.

"You got hired by Althion too, yes?" the blonde headed Shallyan priestess asked.

The man remained silent but nodded again.

"Great!" Lilly smiled extending her hand "Looks like we'll be working together. I'm Lilly."

The priestess was in a large room – one of several that made up the barracks of the Starlight Guardians. The room boasted a range of old scarred tables and semi-worn benches, thus betraying its status as a mess hall.

Currently the priestess was awaiting the return of Torestorm and Gognak with two other people. One of them, Jarek, was still nursing the wounds caused from the encounter with Alabern. The priestess had healed them all for him but for now, he resigned himself to stretching out upon one of the benches for a rest.

As the Tomb raider was quite clearly not in the mood for conversation, the priestess' eye had turned to the other occupant in the room.

So far, she was having little success in communication.

The man named Dimitri said nothing. Instead he looked at the outstretched hand and then at the priestess. It was there and then she noticed something for the first time.

His eyes – they were the most coldest eyes she had ever seen. They were pale blue, devoid of any emotion whatsoever. Lilly was indeed taken aback – it was a shock to see it the first time but to see it so close was an unnerving sight indeed. Nevertheless she still kept her hand forward.

The Kislevite then slowly lifted his own hand and returned the handshake.

The priestess, glad to have established at least some kind of connection, spoke again:

"So what are you here for?"

Dimitri said nothing.

Lilly's brow furrowed. She'd heard stories about bounty hunters. They had a reputation for being the meanest, cold-hearted and intimidating of all people. And they had to be: they were the type who hunted dangerous, law-breaking people for a living – showing any kind of weakness was unthinkable.

And having met one in the flesh for the first time, it seemed these stories certainly weren't exaggerated.

But if this bounty hunter was to be working with them, the least she could do was at make some kind of effort to get along.

"So tell me about Kislev," Lilly said.

Dimitri remained silent.

"You're not in a talkative mood are you?"

Just then Jarek cleared his throat.

"Ever thought it possible that he could be mute?"

But before either the priestess or the bounty hunter could answer, the door flew open with a bang. All attention turned to the door to see Torestorm and Gognak enter. Jarek got up off the bench as the two Guardians approached the three humans.

"Well?" Lilly asked. "What did Althion have to say?"

"We do indeed have a new mission," Gognak spoke. "Rumours are circulating of a group of Hobgoblin bandits in the area. One of the Starlight Guardians went to investigate their hideout but has not returned."

Torestorm turned to Dimitri.

"The leader of these hobgoblin bandits is called Snaggit. He has something of a reputation amongst the people of Weissbruck. Althion will pay handsomely for his head."

The elf handed the bounty hunter a piece of paper – one which bore the legend WANTED and a crude portrait. Dimitri took the paper, studied it and nodded his consent.

"Well now," Gognak grunted. "Shall we get moving then? We can't keep those Hobgoblins waiting."

"Hold on," Jarek said to Gognak "You're coming with us?"

"Damn right I am," the dwarf rumbled.

Jarek exchanged looks with Lilly and Torestorm and then smiled.

"And then there were five…" he murmured.

* * *

The mercenaries found themselves standing in a tunnel that had been carved completely out of the rock. All around them, were ornate, glass paned lanterns revealing a group of Dwarven guards at one end of the tunnel and a darkened passage at the other.

"Where else but in a mine would you find a miner?" Lilly muttered.

"I don't see how hobgoblins would've settled in here." Jarek mused, nodding back in the guard's direction. "Surely the Dwarves would've driven them out."

"That's not for a lack of trying," Gognak answered "Out of all the green-skins, the hobgoblins are sneaky, cowardly, back-stabbing bastards; and staying alive is their way of living. But at the end of the day, a green-skin is still a green-skin…"

The Dwarf ran a gloved finger across the blade of his axe and grinned an almost insane grin.

"Well then!" Jarek exclaimed. "Shall we get moving then?"

He started walking down the tunnel.

The tomb raider had only taken a few steps before he was interrupted.

An arm belonging to Dimitri shot out in front of Jarek's path.

"What's the matter?' asked Jarek.

The bounty hunter didn't reply.

But Torestorm's aquiline face hardened. Coolly, he drew his twin blades.

"Something's heading this way" he said "Be on your guard."

With such a command, everyone fell silent – and within seconds; they all could hear it, a scratching, scampering sound of many claws against bare rock. The sound grew closer and louder with each second.

And then, without warning, a trio of giant rats burst out from the darkness, each bearing a set of vicious teeth and a pair of malevolent red eyes.

Torestorm smirked as the rats charged. The first one leapt in the elf's direction. But Torestorm, having fought hundreds of battles, had anticipated this move. Moving with a speed forged with centuries of battle experience; the elf thrust one of his blades down the rat's open jaws. Before the rat had time to realise what was happening, the blade shot upwards, carving it's way through the rat and slicing it open; releasing its life's blood in a spraying arch. The remains of the rat fell to the floor and at the Dreadlord's feet, the elf's expression not flinching for a second.

The second rat charged in the direction of Jarek. But the Tomb raider was ready: As the rat drew close, Jarek stepped out of the way.

But before the Rat had time to wonder where his potential foe had gone, he then felt the cold steel of Jarek's blade penetrate its flesh. But there wasn't time to recover as the blade then drove its way deep into the rat's body. The vermin squealed with pain before the steel cap of a boot crashed its way into its skull. Thankfully it felt nothing following the final blow.

Lilly meanwhile, kept her staff raised above her head. As the rat approached, she brought it down and across, hard and fast. The rat was hit with such a force that it was driven into the floor of the tunnel. Such was the impact that its body collapsed in a cloud of blood and crunching bone.

Gognak watched the three with an amused eye.

"Not a bad effort" the dwarf grinned "Considering"

"Considering what?" Jarek asked, looking up

"You're two humans and an elf!" the dwarf chuckled.

"Well thanks a lot" Lilly muttered "It's not like you did anything to help"

Torestorm sighed.

"Can we just cease this prattling and just get on with this?"

And with that, he headed off into the darkened passage.

Gognak shrugged and followed the elf. Dimitri headed off after the dwarf, his eyes aimed straight ahead.

Jarek looked at the priestess.

"Well, if there's treasure in here then there's no point in keeping it waiting" he grinned.

"We certainly are a mismatched group of mercenaries" Lilly sighed "I just hope it's the monsters who'll tear us apart"

Jarek blinked

"That's a peculiar thing to say"

"Better them do it than ourselves" the priestess said before heading into the darkened tunnel.

Taken aback, Jarek blinked before following.

* * *

Before too long, they found themselves at a door. Gognak tried the handle.

"Locked!" he barked. Pausing for a moment, his facial expression slowly grew leaden with contempt.

"I smell green-skins" he growled "They're close"

Just then, Jarek noticed something in a small corner in the wall and moved to investigate. He knelt down and then his face paled.

"I think they are much closer then we realise" he said "And they mean business"

And to prove his point, he lifted something into the light.

It was a human head: One that sported a ghastly smile, permanently frozen in death.

"Poor soul" Lilly murmured.

"Anyone you know?" Torestorm asked Gognak but the dwarf shook his head.

"If those green-skins want a fight then I'll certainly give them one!"

"Then lets not keep them waiting" the elf added, taking a step back.

"Hey wait!" the dwarf said "What are you doing?"

"Just applying a little brute force"

"You? An elf?" the dwarf sneered "Think you can break that door down?"

"Only one way to find out" said the elf.

And with that, Torestorm charged at the door. The door was struck with such a force that it was ripped apart from the lock. The door collapsed forward in a cloud of dust and pieces of splintered wood, this enabling the elf entry into the new room.

Torestorm landed firmly feet first onto the now ruined door. He paused for breath – but the moment was fleeting.

For what happened next, happened quickly.

His elven senses detected something was coming his way. He looked upwards to see a mass of rocks come tumbling down from up above.

With deft movement's equivalent to a wild cat, the elf dived out of the way.

The rocks crashed onto the ruined door. As the dust cleared the elf's comrades blinked at the elf's speedy escape.

"Are you all right?" Lilly called.

"Yes" Torestorm replied, emerging back into the light, dusting his green enamelled armour.

"I'll give you credit elf." Gognak said "If it wasn't for you any one of us would've all been crushed under that trap!"

"Thanks."

Jarek stepped over the pile of rocks carrying the lantern, illuminating the contents of the room as he went. In it was a pile of crude furniture in the form of a chest and some bed frames.

"So much for the green-skins" Torestorm cogitated "There's no one here. Where could they've gone?"

"Seems like we have some living quarters of some sort" Lilly said.

But already, Jarek was heading to the chest.

"I wonder what's in here?" he mused, setting the lantern down and reaching for the chest's lid.

"Is this wise?" the priestess asked "If these are where the hobgoblins live, then I don't want to touch their stuff!"

"True" the tomb raider replied "but think: if they are bandits then they must keep their gold somewhere!"

And much to his surprise, he found the lid unlocked. He flung it open…

And immediately regretted his decision.

The tomb raiders confronted first with a rancid smell – and then the sight of meat in the chest.

"Obviously what the hobgoblins have been living on" Gognak growled.

"Oh man" Jarek gagged – he couldn't think what was worse: the smell of the meat clearly going off or the fact that there was meat in the chest when he was expecting something else.

"We should set fire to this" Gognak commanded.

Dimitri nodded and stepped forward with the lantern whilst Jarek is sitting down looking ill.

"Who keeps meat in a chest anyway?" he muttered.

* * *

Snaggit Redaxe glared at the intruders: Three humans, an elf and a dwarf.

"What are you doin' here in my domain?" he snarled.

Before any of them could answer, something came screaming through the air and struck the hobgoblin.

It was a crossbow bolt.

Snaggit roared with pain as the bolt buried into him. Immediately, Torestorm, Lilly, Jarek and Gognak all turned to Dimitri – the bounty hunter calmly loaded up his crossbow ready for a second payload.

The elf grinned a wolfish grin.

"I like your way of thinking" the elf said to the bounty hunter.

The bounty hunter merely nodded.

Snaggit glowered at the warriors.

"Wanna fight then?' he sneered "Fine by me! My masters could always do with some more slaves!"

And with that, the greenskin snapped his fingers. Immediately four more hobgoblins emerged from the shadows, each clutching a wicked axe and bearing a cruel smile.

"You ain't takin me without a fight!" Snaggit crowed.

"We wouldn't have it any other way" Gognak grinned, stepping froward.

Immediately, the comrades drew their weapons and charged into battle, each launching themselves at a green-skin. The only exception was Dimitri who had his crossbow trained eye on Snaggit.

With almost mechanical-like precision, the bounty hunter loaded another bolt and sent it to the hobgoblin chieftain. This one however missed it's mark.

"Nice try ooman!" Snaggit taunted.

"Aahh shut yer face!" Lilly shouted over the battle.

Each of the warriors faced a hobgoblin in a fight to the death. Snaggit meanwhile, stood at the far end of the room, keeping one eye on Dimitri and shouting commands to his henchmen.

There was only one problem.

The hobgoblins weren't exactly willing to fight one on one. They were all attacking at once, changing and sharing targets as they saw fit. Also, being taller than a goblin, they were quick in their movements. Thus it wasn't easy to land a blow on something on the sneakiest of green-skins. Even Torestorm, driven by his quick movements was having trouble.

"Soddit" the dreadlord snarled, as another blow failed to reach its mark.

"I've fought elves before" his hobgoblin opponent taunted "And I've found they break like a twig!"

And with that, the greenskin laughed a mocking laugh.

That was, until, a crossbow bolt slammed into his stomach.

The hobgoblin toppled forward, his mouth frozen in a death grin. Torestorm looked over his shoulder at Dimitri. The bounty hunter's facial expression was blank – seemingly unbothered by the mayhem happening around him.

Snaggit had also noticed his minion fall. Clutching his axe, he cast one look at the bounty hunter and strode into battle.

But he wasn't heading in Dimitri's direction: Instead he went for the dwarf.

Seeing this sudden movement, the bounty hunter also began to advance after his target.

Gognak was struck by an unexpected blow from his opponent; the large rust pitted and spiked scimitar bit deep into his dwarvish skin.

Propelled forward by his hatred of greenskins, he delivered a ferocious attack – but in his fury, all his blows were absorbed by the improvised armour. Playing the dwarven hatred of green-skins up, the hobgoblin was able to sneak in several nasty strikes.

Bleeding and breathless, Gognak could feel his strength fade. The hobgoblin he had tried to slay still stood, an expression of ruthless taunt written across his face.

It seems his time was coming but he didn't want it to end like this….

Not to a measly green-skin….

Then the dwarf looked up and saw the hobgoblin chieftain approach.

"I'm gonna enjoy killing you" he sneered.

"NEVER!" Gognak defiantly bellowed. Summoning whatever strength was left in him, the dwarf swung his axe in lethal arc. It cleaved into the hobgoblin's body grinding through blood, flesh and bone. And then, in an instant, Snaggit's head, arms and torso toppled from its legs.

But unfortunately for Gognak, his henchman remained. The hobgoblin the dwarf tried so hard to slay retaliated by driving his blade into the dwarf.

And with that, Gognak toppled forward, his body giving into his many wounds.

However, with their chieftain dead, the remaining hobgoblins were taken over by their cowardly nature. Suddenly lacking the stomach to fight, the two survivors immediately started scrabbling for the door. Throwing their axes aside, the two hobgoblins, ran away from the warriors. They bolted from the room and into the darkness of the tunnel beyond.

"What the hell?" Jarek said "Running away are you?"

"They are cowards" Torestorm said "Let them go. Our blades have been fed for the moment."

"But…" Lilly started

"Leave it milady" the elf said "For we need your skills in healing"

It was then that the priestess noticed the dying Gognak. Eyes widening in alarm she rushed over and knelt down.

"He's still breathing" she said "But only just"

She then reached into her robe and produced a small potion. She then it poured down the dwarf's throat, before grasping his head and gently rubbing throat so the dwarf didn't drown from the liquid.

For a while nothing happened.

And then, the dwarf slowly began coughing. His bleeding ceased right before the group's eyes. Gognak's eyes then opened. He then smiled at Lilly.

"Thanks" he said "Didn't want to lose against a green-skin"

While this was going on, Dimitri approached the remnants of Snaggit. The bounty hunter's face was scarred by a terrible frown and eyes radiating with contempt.

He'd wanted his head….

Nevertheless, he knelt down and produced a dagger…..

Gognak sat up, breathing heavily.

"Are you dead yet?" Torestorm asked facetiously.

"Wadd-ya think ya spoony elf" the dwarf spat.

* * *

Unbeknownst to everyone else, Dimitri had knelt down beside the corpse of Snaggit.

The target was dead.

But not by his hand.

Leaning forward, the bounty drew out a cruel looking knife.

It would be a shame to return empty handed…..

Just then Jarek let out a cry of alarm. Immediately all eyes turned to him. The tomb raider had made his way to the corner of the room, where a barrel was standing. Lifting the lid off the barrel, it seemed, had sent Jarek reeling.

"What's the matter?" Torestorm asked.

Jarek turned around, his face solemn.

"I think we've just found what we've been looking for" he managed to say.

The dwarf struggled to his feet and limped over.

He peered into the barrel and was confronted with the sight of the body of a dwarf.

Gognak's face grew lined with sorrow as Torestorm came up behind him.

"It's Durgal isn't it?" the elf asked.

Gognak nodded.

"I'm s…" Jarek began but the dwarf cut him off

"Save it" he said "Right now, I must return him to the surface.

"The least I can do is give him a proper burial"

"See to your kinsfolk master dwarf." Torestorm, solemnly stated.

And with that, he reached into the barrel and pulled the body out.

Holding the body of his kinsman in his hands, Gognak turned to his comrades.

"It's better I save him from rotting here in the hands of the green-skins" he said.

And with that, he limped out of the room.

* * *

It wasn't long afterwards that the elf and the three humans found themselves emerge into sunshine. They all stepped out from a cave nestled within the mountainside. And there, in the distance was Weissbruck.

In the early evening, the warriors finally returned to Weissbruck. Upon arrival, they trooped back to the barracks to report to Althion.

"I have received word from Gognak that Durgal was found." Althion said. "You have all done well."

"Oh it was nothing" Lilly smiled.

"It wasn't like you did much," Jarek muttered.

"And of the hobgoblin Snaggit?" The mage asked.

Dimitri promptly stepped forward holding a casket. Althion took the casket and opened it – only to be confronted with the hideous sight of Snaggit's head.

Upon being presented with such a hideous visage, Althion didn't flinch - but as he looked, his mouth collapsed into a frown.

"I am glad to see the hobgoblin dead," the mage said to the bounty hunter "But I don't believe it was by your hand.

"I have lived for many years. And I know deception when I see it. You may have my thanks but nothing more."

And with that he turned to go.

Dimitri's brow furrowed and he reached for his axe.

But Torestorm held his hand out in front of him.

"Don't argue with your employer!" The elf hissed under his breath "You of all people should know that!"

Althion paused. Although he couldn't see it, he knew very well what was happening.

Dimitri's gaze burned with contempt but he relented.

And with that Althion continued out of the room.

Dimitri watched him go, his fist clenching in anger. Having borne witness to this scene, Jarek and Lilly exchanged bewildered looks.

"He has some nerve standing up to Althion," the tomb raider murmured under his breath.

The priestess said nothing. Instead her gaze hardened.


	3. Secrets of the Cytharai: Crypt

**Secrets of the Cytharai**

**III**

**Crypt**

Antonio was a typical Tilean crime lord: A bloated form, greasy fingers, thick cheeks accompanying a neatly trimmed beard and the finest silk robes money could buy.

And a wanted man.

Or at least in his native homeland.

He'd been travelling incognito for the past week or so – he couldn't remember exactly how long. Time seems to matter little when you're trying to avoid attracting attention. When he was in Tilea, he had managed to build a fair-sized crime empire with his own two hands, making dealings in the black market, making friends with the right people and silencing his enemies with money or, failing that, a knife in the ribs.

Recently however, he was interested in expanding his borders. So, he had travelled into the Empire, with the intention of establishing a crime racket.

Or more to the point, he has been driven out as his empire collapsed – through betrayal from a close ally.

Such was the way of the Tileans.

Currently Antonio had been travelling far and was pausing for rest. For the moment, he was resting in a tavern in some village, Weissbruck he thought it was called, plotting his next move.

With a pair of burly bodyguards at his side, no one really bothered him.

Or most likely no one recognised him outside of Tilea.

All the more better for him…..

Anyway, rumours had led him to believe that this village was a very quiet place, facing little in the terms of crime or involvement from any groups. There were stories that a tribe of Orcs had established a camp nearby but since no one had proven so, such talk was dismissed as stories.

There were also whispers of an army of blue and gold sacking a town up north but, for whatever reason, such a potential threat was rarely discussed.

But in any case, this quiet town seemed the perfect starting point to rebuild….

Suddenly, Antonio's thoughts were interrupted – in the form of a piece of paper being slammed down before him.

The crime lord looked up to see a tall Kislevite, bedecked in furs, black clothing and a brown moustache. In front of them both was a wanted poster with Antonio's name.

Antonio's eyes widened with terror at this newcomer. A bounty hunter? Or some young buck wanting to pick a fight?

Oh what does it matter? With a snap of their master's fingers, the bodyguards moved to act.

Without batting an eyelid, Dimitri Shandrikova grabbed the nearest one by the front of his shirt – before hurling him across the room. The bodyguard went flying into a table, scattering those around it. The man hit the table with such force that the table split in half with a loud crack.

Immediately panic spread through the tavern and many of the patrons made their way to the door, not wanting to confront the big Kislevite. Oblivious, Dimitri turned his attention to the second guard. The bodyguard launched himself at the bounty hunter but Dimitri anticipated such a move: in one swift movement, he reached down to his side and drew forth a lethal-looking hand axe.

One which he promptly drove into the bodyguard's face, with a sickening crunch.

The bodyguard tumbled to the ground, and again, Dimitri confronted Antonio.

By now, the crime lord was inching towards the door, keen to get away from the bounty hunter. But Dimitri was too quick: Striding over he grasped the crime lord by the front of his shirt.

Suddenly Antonio drew forth a knife. Driven by fear, he thrust it forward to the bounty hunter's ribs.

And he would've got there had his hand not been intercepted.

Next thing he knew, the crime lord felt a tight grip encase his hand. One that refused to let go and buried itself deep into the man's hand. Roaring with pain, Antonio dropped the knife.

Now facing certain doom, all Antonio could do was quaver before the bounty hunter.

Dimitri remained silent, returning nothing but a cold, emotionless stare.

* * *

"So where is Dimitri exactly?" Lilly asked.

"Althion had a separate mission for him to complete," Torestorm replied. "Something about an enemy he wanted taken care of."

"And he agreed?" Jarek added. "He seemed very angry about not being rewarded for killing that hobgoblin."

"Well that's what I thought…" the elf murmured, his voice trailing off.

The three adventurers were heading out beyond the village borderline to the unknown world that was the wilderness.

"You know," Jarek said, "since we've met, that bounty hunter hasn't said anything at all. I'm beginning to wonder about him."

"You're not the only one," Torestorm muttered.

"He shouldn't bother us," Lilly reasoned, "after all he's only after criminals, right? I know for one I haven't broken the law."

"And whilst I exist outside the human laws that govern the Empire," Torestorm added, "I haven't done anything to clash with them since arriving here."

"What about you?" The Dreadlord then asked Jarek.

The Tomb Raider grinned nervously.

"….No…." he said "….I don't think I've ever done anything wrong…."

A brief pause followed.

"So what has Althion have in store for us?" Jarek asked, keen to change the subject.

"We have been asked to take up a task from an outside source" the elf answered "From a wizard called Marlak,"

"And this task would be?" Lilly asked.

"I think we're about to find out," Torestorm replied, indicating before him.

And there, up ahead was small hut.

"Typical wizard," Jarek muttered, "Keeping to himself."

"What's the matter?' Lilly asked, in a playful tone, "Don't like people who like to maintain their privacy?"

"Your point being?"

And without waiting for an answer, the tomb raider continued on his way, leaving Lilly blinking in astonishment.

* * *

All around was a smoky atmosphere, thick with magic. Skulls leered from all around, inscribed with runes. And in the middle of it all, was an imposing figure with a burly frame, shaven head and black robes.

The man cleared his throat and spoke in a voice tempered with age but resonating with immediate authority.

"I have a problem. For my research, I require a burial shroud that's at least two hundred years old. There's only one crypt in the cemetery that old, and it's probably being watched by agents of a Necromancer, Zeru. He is working with the Cytharai cults, though to what end, I do not know.

"Fortunately, Zeru's minions will be watching for me, not any of you. If you enter the Hanan family crypt and bring me back a piece of a burial shroud, I'll give each of you twenty gold crowns."

Torestorm, Lilly and Jarek exchanged interested looks.

"Plus I'll give each of you a diamond," Marlak went on. "You can sell it to the jeweller for at least fifty gold crowns, I'm sure. The cemetery is just on the other side of town, but I'd go there immediately. Even I wouldn't venture there after dark."

"We'll see what we can do," Torestorm said. Bowing his head, he moved to the door.

Lilly followed – but not before issuing a hissed whisper.

"Jarek!"

The Tomb Raider looked up from a gold object he had been observing with a large degree of fascination. Suddenly aware that his companions were on the move, he quickly moved to follow.

* * *

"He wouldn't go after dark," Jarek muttered. "That's why he's getting us to do it for him."

"What's the matter?' Torestorm grinned. "Beginning to regret becoming a mercenary?"

"I'm not a mercenary! I'm a Tomb Raider! There's a difference!"

"There is?"

"Well yes – mercenaries do things for money. I find long lost treasure and keep it from unsavoury hands!"

"Your condemnation about unsavoury hands worries me," the elf muttered.

"What was that?" The Tomb Raider snapped.

"Oh nothing."

"Can we please get on with this?" Lilly sighed. "Let's just get this over and done with."

"What's the matter?" Jarek teased "Worried about what that mage said?"

The priestess said nothing. Immediately, the smile vanished from the Tomb Raider's face.

A brief pause followed before Jarek cleared his throat.

"I wonder what's so important that it's found out there" he said

"What do you mean?" Torestorm replied

"This isn't some Imperial city" the Tomb Raider went on "This is some town in the middle of nowhere."

"So?"

"I doubt a crypt be still standing"

"What are you saying?" Lilly asked.

"Considering the recent Orc attack on Weissbruck, one would think it would've been looted and razed to the ground long ago"

"Jarek" Torestorm said "As you said, this place is in the middle of nowhere.

"So who'd care for a backwater town?"

* * *

The three made their way down a darkened stairway. They had arrived at the graveyard and headed to the centre where a chapel of Morr stood. There, according the Marlak's instructions, the crypt lay directly beneath. So far, they had managed to locate the entrance where darkness awaited…..

"Well anyway," Jarek went on, "mercenaries are only in it for the money. I however have noble intentions."

"Whatever you say," Torestorm murmured.

"Will you stop doing things like that?" Jarek yelled.

Lilly sighed. But then she froze.

"Hold it!' She said. "I heard something."

Instinctively, Jarek and Torestorm fell silent. It was then that they heard a distant sound that grew closer.

"Wha….What is that?" Jarek said.

"If I'm not mistaken," the Dreadlord said, drawing his swords, "that sounds very much like naked bone scraping on rock."

"You don't mean…."

The Tomb Raider waved the lantern light ahead.

And a grinning skill leered back.

And another.

And another.

And another.

Jarek shrieked with terror. And then, from the darkness came a group of skeletons, animated through the dark art of necromancy and walking with unnatural movement.

"What the hell is that?" The Tomb Raider shrieked.

"Undead," Torestorm answered.

"Shallya be with me!" Lilly said, gripping her staff tightly and advancing into battle.

"You're not going to fight these are you?" Jarek yelled.

"What are you going to do?" The elf hissed. "Run?"

"What's wrong with that?"

"Where are you going to go? We are in a graveyard and there's probably going to be a lot more out there!"

Meanwhile, the skeletons had managed to surround Lilly. She had already downed one, and, with one hefty swing of her staff, another tumbled.

"I thought you would've fought the undead before, being a Tomb Raider!" Torestorm snapped at Jarek.

But he didn't reply, quavering in fear, and taking small, backward steps back up the stairway. With a snarl, the elf turned his attention to the undead.

Opening up the lantern, Torestorm swung it in a wide arc. The motion and burst of the air created a large fireball which blazed its way into the skeletons.

Lilly continued her way through the undead, downing one after the other, driven by her faith alone.

Jarek continued to be paralysed by fear. All he could do was watch, his eyes too transfixed with terror to turn away.

But the more he watched the terrible undead being defeated by his comrades, the less he felt the grip of fear.

Instead he felt something new: a sense of survival instinct.

Suddenly, with a roar of courage, he drew his sword and charged into battle.

* * *

"Glad you decided you join us," Torestorm grinned.

Jarek said nothing for breathing heavily. The burst of courage was slowly subsiding.

"Are you all right?" Lilly asked. "Are you hurt?"

The Tomb Raider's lips moved and words came tumbling out.

"…..N…No…" he breathed. "I…..am fine…"

Lilly opened her mouth to speak further but then she noticed something.

"Hey look!"

And there, by the light of the lantern was a trail of footprints in the dust. It headed in a westward direction.

"What do you think of this?" Lilly asked.

"It would seem," Jarek said, "that this the direction where we have to go."

And with that, he marched onward, in the same direction as the footprints.

"How can you be so sure?" Torestorm replied.

"Let's just get on with this!" The Tomb Raider snapped back. "Let's get this over and done with!

"Before any more of those skeletons appear!"

The priestess and the Dreadlord exchanged bewildered looks.

"You really don't like the undead do you?" The elf inquired.

"And what if I don't?" Jarek retorted.

And without waiting for a reply, he headed onward.

He hadn't taken more than a few steps before he came to a stone wall.

"What the hell?" He demanded. Looking to the floor, he noticed the footprints went right up to the wall.

Then he blinked with realisation. And a smile came across his face.

"A secret door! There must be a secret door!"

Jarek turned to Lilly and Torestorm who were still standing where he'd left them.

"I think I've found something!"

Interested, the priestess and the elf walked towards the tomb raider.

But as they did, something underneath went click. And then suddenly, the floor collapsed underneath them! It slowly began tilting downwards, throwing the trio off balance.

"What is this devilry?" Torestorm shouted.

"What did you do!" Lilly demanded

"What did _I_ do!" Jarek snapped back, "What did _you_ do!"

But before the priestess could reply, the tilting came to an end, opening up a darkened opening and the trio went tumbling down into this new tunnel.

* * *

The tunnel didn't run for very long: It sloped downwards into a new room. And it was there that they went tumbling into.

Jarek landed first, flat on his back. The tomb raider groaned with pain – before Lilly came sliding down next to him.

"Are you all right?" Jarek asked.

"I've been better" the priestess replied "How about you?"

Before Jarek could answer Torestorm came sliding into the room.

"Some secret door," he muttered.

"You can't blame me!" Jarek said indignantly. "I didn't touch anything!"

"Never mind that now!" Lilly said, getting to her feet. "Where are we?"

The trio looked around the room. Behind them was the ramp they had slid down. Before them stood a massive, ornate door. Set in its surface was a strange arrangement consisting of five levers and five panels. Each of the panels displayed the letter A. Protruding from the mechanism were a pair of iron rods that kept the door locked to the wall.

"I think it's fair to say, we are in a completely different part of the crypt." Torestorm noted, getting to his feet.

Suddenly, Lilly gasped.

"Jarek! Look out…."

And there, slithering towards the tomb raider was a viper. Acting quickly, Jarek drew his knife and beheaded it in one stroke.

"That was close," he murmured.

"No time for rest." Torestorm warned, "Look!"

And then, a second viper made its way towards the trio.

And again with quick movements, Jarek impaled it with his knife.

Suddenly a third viper appeared.

'I'm not liking this!" Jarek said.

"Where are these snakes coming from? Lilly asked.

"Who cares?" the tomb raider replied urgently "Let's get out of here quick!"

The priestess and the elf nodded and turned their attention to the door.

"Okay so how do we open it?" Lilly asked.

"This would appear to be a combination lock," Torestorm replied, examining the mechanism on the door. "And a primitive one at that."

"So you've seen something like this before then?"

"Let's see now," the elf said, pulling up on the first lever.

Promptly, the first panel shifted, revealing the letter H. The elf pulled it down, returning the panel to A. Pulling it down a second time revealed the Letter N.

"Interesting," the elf mused.

"So, what now?" Lilly inquired.

"The levers are there for use to solve the combination so the door will open for us."

"Well that's great. So what's the combination!"

"Good question…."

Jarek meanwhile, had got to his feet. He had killed several vipers but with each one dead, another appeared to take its place.

He looked around in desperation. They must be coming from somewhere – but where?

It was there, that his eyes fell on a small hole in the wall….

Grinning broadly, he reached into his belt and pulled out a piece of small, thin tubing.

Suddenly the elf's eyes widened.

"Wait," Torestorm said, "I think I have it: what was the name of the family who was buried in this crypt?"

"Hanan I think."

Seizing on this information, the elf pulled the levers to make all the panels spell HANAN. Immediately, a loud click echoed throughout the crypt and the door shuddered. The iron rods slowly ground out from the lock, thus leaving the door open.

Reaching forward, the elf pushed the door open. Instantly, wisps of white mist came creeping in through the doorway.

Torestorm's face hardened.

"This doesn't look good," he growled.

Pausing only to draw one of his swords, he entered the room.

Lilly cast a glance over her shoulder.

"Coming Jarek?"

The Tomb Raider looked up – he had jammed the tubing into the hole in the wall. Seeing his comrades on the move, he followed.

The adventurers stepped into a sea of white mist.

"I can't see a damn thing!" Jarek grumbled.

"Torestorm?" Lilly asked.

"Right here," the elf replied.

"Can you see anything?" The priestess asked, "I can barely make out a single thing in this mist,"

"This isn't natural," Jarek muttered.

"Of course not, you dolt," Torestorm said, "This has all the earmarks of a trap."

"Great…"

Lilly blinked her eyes, slowly adjusting to the mist. Then she blinked again.

"Hey look," she said "I think I see something."

The elf and the Tomb Raider looked in her direction.

And there they saw it: a shape that stood out in amongst the mist. As the mercenaries' eyes adjusted to the mist, the shape took the resemblance of a sarcophagus.

Immediately, Jarek's tomb raiding instincts took over.

"Aha! Now this looks promising!"

"Wait!" Torestorm shouted.

But it was too late: The tomb raider had bolted for the sarcophagus and immediately set to work in opening it up. Much to his surprise, he found the lid wasn't locked down and it opened easily.

"Going into this crypt has finally started to sound like a good idea!" He grinned.

"You really have no shame do you….." Lilly groaned.

Jarek reached into the sarcophagus and pulled out a shiny sword and a piece of cloth.

"Hey look," he said, "I think we've found just what we've come for!"

"True," Lilly said "But what's with that sword?"

"I'm taking it with me of course."

"But…."

"After all, it's not like this fellow is going to need it," Jarek grinned gesturing to the sarcophagus.

"You know, you shouldn't be violating the dead like that," Torestorm said sternly.

"Oh who's going to stop me?"

"What, did you forget we were fighting undead mere moments ago?"

"Then we…" Jarek started before stopping. "Hello, what's this?"

He reached back into the sarcophagus and lifted up a worn but still impressive-looking shield.

But the Tomb raider's gaze was on the reverse side.

"There's a map here!" He exclaimed "It seems there's a trail leading from Weissbruck into the Skaag hills!"

"Wherever they are," Lilly muttered.

"Magic statue…." Jarek murmured, looking closely at the shield.

Suddenly the room echoed with the sound of laughter.

Ready for action, Torestorm and Lilly drew their weapons. Even Jarek looked up.

And then, through the mist came a voice.

"Who are you?" It asked "You're not Marlak."

The voice echoed throughout the chamber. It bounced off the ceiling and the walls, and didn't seem to have any point of source.

"More to the point who are you?" Lilly shouted back "Show yourself!"

"Wait," said Torestorm, "You mentioned Marlak. How do you know him?"

"I've been waiting for him," the voice replied. "But it would seem the cowardly cur has sent some gullible saps in his place!"

"Let me guess," the elf replied "You want this shroud too?"

"Correct."

"So why did you bother waiting for Marlak to show up?"

"Oh enough talk!" The voice snapped. "You fools are in my way and it seems I may need to get rid of you."

"You know I'm not convinced you pose a significant enough threat," Torestorm grinned.

"Then you really are a fool."

"Really? And you aren't?"

"No, I am Zeru and I'm a necromancer."

"Really?" The elf replied dryly, "prove it."

"Very well then. Behold, the Guardians of Zeru!"

And immediately, from the mist, shapes came shuffling. They were human in size and moved with a stiff awkwardness. As they drew closer they revealed themselves to be animated skeletons, bedecked in rusty armour and clutching wicked swords – the hallmarks of a wight. The wights then promptly proceeded to surround the trio.

Lilly grew nervous whilst Jarek's blood turned cold.

"T-Torestorm?" The priestess stammered. "I hope you know what you're doing!"

"Now then," came the voice of Zeru, "I have an offer for you. I have no interest in fighting you. If you let me go unharmed, you can have all the treasure you want."

"Sounds like a reasonable offer…" Jarek said thoughtfully.

"I don't make deals with necromancers," the elf said coldly. And to prove his point, he leapt into battle with the nearest wight.

"Now you're talking!" Lilly grinned gripping her staff.

"Hey wait!" Jarek shouted, "Let's not get too hasty!"

But then, without warning, a cold hand shot out and grabbed the tomb raider's wrist.

With eyes radiating with fear, Jarek looked down to see where the hand came from.

It belonged to the corpse in the sarcophagus.

The tomb raider shrieked with terror as the corpse slowly sat up. As it rose, the shroud concealing it fell down, revealing a rotting face and its jaw opening in a demented grin.

With hands shaking, Jarek's hand dropped down to his belt – only to feel the familiar hilt of his dagger. Then, with a sudden burst of inspiration, the tomb raider's fingers managed to grip the hilt.

And then, in one swift movement, Jarek thrust the dagger into the corpse's wrist, severing it completely.

The corpse let out a hollow scream as Jarek staggered backwards. Brushing off the now disembodied hand, the tomb raider blinked as the corpse began to move up and out of the sarcophagus.

"I am so tired of you undead," he murmured.

Still riding on the burst of courage, he reached to his belt and pulled out a small salve of liquid. Written on its side was the legend Heroic Brew. Pulling out the stopper, Jarek gulped the brew down.

Then, with a roar, he leapt towards the corpse of the Hanan family member.

* * *

The battle with the wights was a tiring one. They were capable of taking so many blows but they still came shuffling forward. The dark magic that held them together was strong enough to keep them continually growing in large numbers. Matters weren't helped with the constant white mist and the taunts from the unseen Zeru.

The trio found themselves outnumbered and badly wounded. In the middle of the battle, the three found themselves with their backs to each other, as the wights circled around them. They were breathless and bleeding heavily.

"You know something" Jarek murmured "I really hate fighting the undead,"

"And I'm with you on that one," Lilly added.

"I concur." Torestorm said. 'If only because they are such a nuisance.'

The two humans looked at the elf in a quizzical manner.

"They just won't lay down and die!" the Dreadlord snapped.

"So what now Fearless Leader?" The priestess asked.

"We've got what we came here for," Jarek said, "Let's just get out of here while we still can!"

"You know something?" Torestorm said "Perhaps you're not so stupid after all."

And with that, the three companions backed their way to the door.

"Running away are you?" The voice of Zeru mocked, "Cowards!"

As he made his way to the door, Torestorm knelt down and picked up a piece of discarded armour from a fallen wight. Then he looked up and grinned.

"Perhaps," Torestorm said to the unseen Zeru, "but we have the shroud – you don't."

"Wait!" Zeru shouted, "Come back! You won't leave here alive!"

"Yes we will."

And with that, Jarek darted back through the door, as Lilly and Torestorm followed.

"What are you doing with that?" The priestess asked, gesturing to the armour.

"Watch," the elf replied.

As the wights advanced to the doorway, the elf placed the armour in the gap beneath the doorway and yanked the door to close. The door groaned in protest as it came in conflict with the armour but it managed to close.

A close that rendered the door completely jammed.

As the trio slowly got their breath back, they were greeted with the sound of fists hammering the door.

"That should hold them," Torestorm said.

"But for how long?" Lilly asked.

"Who cares?" Jarek argued, "Let's just get out of here while we still can.

"I don't know about you two but I'm keen to see the back of this place…."

* * *

Meanwhile, in the depths of the crypt the wights all turned to the door, in confusion.

"The fools," growled the voice of Zeru. "They can't seriously think they can seal me in here forever. It's only a matter of time before I escape.

"And then, those three will regret the day they dared to cross me.

"They can only run so far but they can't hide…."


	4. Secrets of the Cytharai: Shattering

**Secrets of the Cytharai**

**IV**

**Shattering**

Torestorm wandered through the forest.

He enjoyed wandering through trees – one could only tolerate the bustle and stink of Weissbruck for so long. It was anyone's guess how the humans could continue living there but for now, he was enjoying the fresh air.

It certainly was a respite from the violent life he lived…

He had slain many enemies in his centuries of existence: Elf, Man, Dwarf, Orc, Skaven, he had killed them all. He had seen death in all its forms and never once did he shrink back. He had seen both friend and foe alike die screaming in possibly every way imaginable but yet he stood when they fell.

It's a funny thing being of a long-lived race: You keep going when all else around you wither and dies.

True, fighting battles has given his long-life a sense of meaning but this was against Chaos: A foe that will never back down, will keep coming back and will never truly leave.

Still, as long as there is Chaos, he'll be there to stand against it.

Insane as it may seem…..

Suddenly, his ears picked up the sound of something new: It was the sound of soft music.

Immediately, the elf's battle hardened instincts took over and he headed over in the direction of the noise.

He wasn't expecting to hear music in the middle of a forest…..

Torestorm made his way trough the trees, guided by only the music he could hear.

Who on earth would be playing music in the middle of this forest? Instinct insisted it was trap but something else compelled him onward.

And then, he arrived at the source of the noise.

The elf's eyes widened in surprise.

There, in a small clearing up ahead, was a woman.

She was dressed in travelling leathers: a jerkin and leggings of blue. She sat on a boulder silently plucking the strings of a guitar-shaped instrument.

But what surprised the elf the most was the woman had long auburn hair, a tall slender frame and pointed ears – characteristics that designated her as an elf.

As the she-elf continued to play, Torestorm paused – it had been a while since he had heard the type of music only his race could provide. He closed his eyes in a blissful manner.

Suddenly, the music stopped.

The Dreadlord opened his eyes to see what caused the interruption.

The she-elf hadn't moved from her position: She continued to sit, on her boulder with her gaze maintained at her instrument. However, her strumming hand was now slowly moving to her belt, where a dagger awaited.

Thinking quickly, Torestorm unclipped his belt, sending it, along with his swords and scabbards still attached, crashing to his feet.

Immediately, the she-elf paused.

"Who are you?" she said sharply.

"I am not a Druchii if that's what you're thinking" the Outcast replied.

"You sure look like one"

"I am not I can assure you"

"So who are you?" the she-elf demanded.

"My name is Torestorm…" the elf began before being interrupted.

The she-elf looked up to make eye contact for the first time. Torestorm blinked at her features, noting a pair of gorgeous eyes and full lips set in face possessing a beauty only an elf would comprehend.

It had been so long since he'd seen elvish beauty that he'd almost forgotten what it looked like…

"Y-You?" the elf spluttered "You are the Outcast? I thought you were a myth!"

"I'm no myth" Torestorm replied "Sorry to disappoint you"

"So what are you going to do?" the she-elf demanded "Kill me? Take my money?"

"Actually I would like to hear more of your playing"

The she-elf blinked taken aback.

A long pause descended between the two.

Eventually, the she-elf's hand returned to the strings of her instrument.

And she played…..

And for Torestorm, time was brought to standstill: Focused on the she-elf's delicate playing, his could feel a sense of peace that he had not felt in many years. For a moment, the blood on his hands and the thought of Chaos was banished from his mind. All he could hear was the gentle plucking of the strings on the elf's instrument.

Eventually, the elf's fingers came to the end of the song.

Torestorm blinked.

"That was beautiful" he said "You have some skill indeed"

"Thank you" the elf replied.

"So what are you doing out here?"

"I've been travelling for quite a while" The she-elf answered "Heading through these trees, I felt inspired so I stopped to play"

"So where are you heading?"

"Nowhere in particular" The she-elf shrugged "Just where my destiny awaits"

"Spoken like a true bard" Torestorm chuckled.

The she-elf smiled.

""May I ask your name?" the Dreadlord then inquired.

"Saraielle…."

* * *

The forest echoed with the sound of boots, hammering their way down a dirt road.

Boots that belonged to a dwarf – one whose eyes were darting left and right.

He swore he was being followed.

Instinct told him so – but his eyes didn't. They revealed to him that no one else was in sight but the dwarf refused to take their word for it.

All he could see, on either side of the road, were trees.

Gognak's brow furrowed. It was a stupid move coming here into this forest. Like many dwarves, trees reminded him of the elves, the blasted oathbreakers, and their cunning, deceitful ways.

It was just like an elf to strike you down with an arrow whilst they are hiding in amongst the trees. They don't have the balls to come out and fight you like a true warrior.

The dwarf blinked and then he shook his head.

"Pull yourself together!" he hissed in a reminder to himself.

Gognak had spent the last few days travelling to the dwarven stronghold of Karaz-a-Karak. He, along with a group of other mercenaries known collectively as the Dragonfire Reavers (unsurprisingly, it was an elf who thought such a name up), had discovered the body of a miner and fellow Starlight Guardian, Durgal. Not wishing to leave a kinsman in the hands of the enemy, Gognak took it upon himself to return the body of Durgal for a proper burial. Now that his mission had been completed, he had set off back to Weissbruck.

The dwarf didn't like being here – these trees were making him think crazy thoughts. But, according to local knowledge, this forest did yield a quick route back to Weissbruck, so he took it.

But if this was a short cut, he certainly hoped he would be out of here soon, the further from these blasted trees the better.

Suddenly his ears caught the sound of running footsteps.

He flicked a glance over his shoulder.

But no one was there.

The dwarf blinked in disbelief. What the hell? He could've sworn….

Suddenly he heard the sound of laughter.

He looked around again. But still he saw no one else.

Suddenly, he caught sight of movement.

Gognak looked around again, but he was all alone.

The dwarf gritted his teeth. The trees were messing with his head – he needed to get out of here and fast.

He continued walking, his pace growing faster with each step. But even as he made his way through the forest, his ears still detected weird sounds, laughter, whispering, soft chanting…..

Suddenly, from behind him came the most blood-curdling scream the dwarf had ever heard.

Gognak skidded to a stop and looked over his shoulder.

There was no one else there.

He looked back – only to be confronted with the sight of something new.

It was a man.

The dwarf could feel his blood turn cold – where did he come from?

But something didn't seem right: This man was dressed in robes of white, blue and gold. He clutched in his hand a staff, blazoned with a peculiar symbol. The man's feet didn't touch the ground – instead, he floated a foot above it. The man had no face, keeping it concealed under a hood.

The man floated closer as the dwarf drew his axe.

"Going somewhere?" asked a voice from beneath the hood.

Gognak didn't answer. Instead, he looked towards the staff, his eyes at the symbol. Something told him he'd seen it somewhere before but he couldn't place it.

Suddenly it hit him: In his studies of the forces of Chaos, he had come across the symbol before.

It was that of the Great Schemer himself, Tzeentch.

"Do you know who I am?" the hooded man asked.

"You think I care?" the dwarf growled "You're Chaos and that's all I need to know!"

"You're a smart one, Gognak" came the reply.

The dwarf paused in surprise – how did that scum know his name…?

But then he shrugged – he'd kill the swine no matter what he thought!

As if he read the dwarf's thoughts the man chuckled.

"But you're a fool to challenge me" he said and snapped his fingers.

And then they came: Bursting from the trees, a group of men emerged, each dressed in robes of white, blue and gold, clutching crude weapons and sporting the symbols of Tzeentch and Chaos. Within seconds, the cultists had the dwarf surrounded.

The dwarf's brow furrowed – it looked like there was nowhere to run.

But why should he bother? Being a Starlight Guardian, his concern is only fighting the forces of Cytharai. Why should the forces of Tzeentch be a problem?

Then again however, these are the followers of a Chaos god – what difference should it make which one?

With a bellow, Gognak gripped his axe and charged into battle.

* * *

Jarek wandered about the mage's office, his eyes wide with delight.

"Now this is an impressive looking place you've got here" he grinned, his gaze running from one end of the room to the other.

Althion's eyes widened in exasperation.

"I'll have you not touch anything while you're here" he said sternly.

But whatever the Tomb Raider was told, it seemed to have little effect.

"I'll give you elves credit" he said, pausing to admire an ancient looking tapestry hanging on the wall "You certainly know how to live the life!"

Torestorm sighed with the resignation of someone who had seen it all a hundred times before.

"You were summoned here for a reason!" Althion growled "And it certainly wasn't to…."

"You know something?" Jarek, paying the mage absolutely no attention "Seems that working for you suddenly became a lot more pleasing."

Suddenly, Torestorm got to his feet.

"Allow me" he said to Althion.

And with that, he strode over to the Tomb Raider.

Jarek didn't hear him approach – but he did feel the Dreadlord's elbow come crashing down upon his head.

"Stick to business" the elf growled. Jarek glared but eventually nodded his consent.

And with that, the two Reavers returned to the desk of their employer.

Torestorm resumed his seat, as Althion glared at the Tomb Raider.

"Down to business" the mage said "Torestorm told me you were the only one who saw the map scratched in the shield in the crypt."

Jarek nodded.

"I've also been informed that you claim to have memorised it."

Jarek nodded a second time.

Athion then produced a pencil and a piece of paper.

"Here" he ordered "I want to see that claim being put to the test: I want you to draw the map from memory."

Receiving the pencil and paper, Jarek looked to the ceiling and breathed heavily.

Then he leant forward and started drawing.

Within a short while, he produced an image displaying the location of Weissbruck, the location of a place called the Skaag hills and a route connecting the two.

The two elves watched his progress with interest.

"Are you sure this is it?" Torestorm demanded "This is exactly how you remember it?"

"Absolutely" Jarek replied.

Althion however, looked more thoughtful.

"The Skaag Hills" he mused "I do believe that name sounds familiar"

He made his way over to one of the many bookshelves that lined the walls of the office. Althion ran his fingers across the spines of the books resting there. Suddenly, he paused and pulled a book off the shelf. The mage opened it and flicked through the pages.

Eventually he stopped at a particular page. The mage ran his finger down it, studying words written in ink.

"Aha!" he said "I knew I'd heard that name before."

He turned to Torestorm and Jarek (whose attention was suddenly diverted to Althion's desk).

"My investigations with the Moonshadow Carnival have revealed that the Skaag Hills is an important location to their operations."

Torestorm leaned forward as the mage continued.

"The Moonshadow Carnival are able to conceal themselves from the populace using magic. This magic involves a powerful spell that draws its power from a statue located in a secret cave located in these hills.

"My understanding is that the source of the power lies in the gems that stand as the statue's eyes. If we are able to retrieve these gems for ourselves, the Moonshadow Carnival will be unable to use their disguises and their power will be weakened significantly!"

"You know something Althion" Torestorm said, getting to his feet "Your intelligence network is quite astonishing"

"I have agents everywhere"

The Dreadlord fixed the mage with a hardened gaze as Althion continued:

"These are your orders: I want you to retrieve those gems – doing so will reveal the true forms of the Moonshadow Carnival to us."

The Dreadlord's gaze hardened more.

"Very well then" he said slowly "You shall have our help"

He then got to his feet and headed for the door.

"Glad to hear it" Althion muttered – then his gaze turned to Jarek.

The Tomb Raider grinned nervously.

"Nice desk" he stumbled out with "Never seen a finish like that."

"I'd advise you to keep your dirty fingermarks off it" came the mage's sharp reply "That piece of furniture dates back to before the foundation of the human empire."

Jarek's eyes widened.

"You serious?" he gasped "This must be worth…."

"JAREK!" came a shout from the other side of the room.

The Tomb Raider blinked before hurrying off after Torestorm.

* * *

"How much further do we have to go?" Lilly grumbled.

"Ask him" Torestorm nodding in Jarek's direction "He saw the map."

"How should I know?" the Tomb Raider growled "The damn thing didn't say that exact location!"

"Well that's just great" the priestess groaned "We could be for days, searching through these hills!"

"It's not my fault you're not dressed practically for this terrain" Jarek retorted, pointing out the priestess' robes which, being unused to mountainous terrain, were growing dirtier with each passing minute.

"What did you say?" Lilly shouted.

Up ahead, Torestorm was walking alongside Dimitri. The Dreadlord cast a look over his shoulder to see the priestess and Tomb Raider descend into a rather heated argument.

"Looks like the newly-weds are fighting again" the elf said to Dimitri with a grin.

The bounty hunter did not reply.

The four Reavers were making their way through the Skaag Hills, searching for the secret cave Althion told them about. So far, the journey was uneventful, in that they hadn't attracted too much attention, whether from bandits, Orcs or the possibility of more cultists.

But, in Torestorm's mind, he would rather slay Orcs any day then endure Lilly and Jarek arguing…

Just then Dimitri reached out his hand, in front of the Dreadlord.

"What?" Torestorm said "Is something the matter?"

The bounty hunter jabbed a finger up ahead.

And there was a cave. It was set in the rock, far below the path the Reavers were heading on. Between the warriors and the cave, was thick forest, mostly concealing it from unwelcome eyes.

But not the eyes of a well-trained and experienced bounty hunter.

Torestorm looked through the trees and caught sight of the cave – he then turned to the bounty hunter.

"Think it could be it?"

Dimitri nodded.

"It looks just the type of cave that doesn't want to be found" the elf noted.

He flicked his head over his shoulder.

"Lilly! Jarek! Over here!"

Immediately, the priestess and the tomb raider ceased arguing and looked up.

* * *

Moments later, the mercenaries had made their way to the mouth of the cave. And there, within the rock was a wooden, weather-beaten door.

"Looks like this may be it" Lilly observed "Seems the cultists know a good place to hide when they see one."

"Well, if they've gone to this much trouble then those gems must be worth a lot" Jarek said.

"Right then" Torestorm said "Lets get started, shall we?"

And with that, he kicked the door. The elf's boot struck the door with such force that it was ripped from the lock and went flying open.

The elf drew his twin blades and entered the darkness.

"Not exactly subtle are you?" Lilly muttered as she followed the elf.

Jarek grinned and drew his sword, looking keen for some action. Dimitri readied his crossbow and advanced, bringing up the rear.

The mercenaries hadn't gone far when suddenly, they all heard a deep growl.

"Ermmm….what was that?" Jarek asked.

As if in answer, the room shook with the sound of something crawling across the dirt floor.

"Does that answer your question?" Torestorm asked, gesturing ahead.

And there, by the light of the lantern, was a massive form. It was human in form but far more muscular and grotesque. It had arms that were as wide as trees and legs that looked as impregnable as a rock. It also bore an ugly head, with a deformed jaw, nasty tusks for teeth and beady eyes that flickered open revealing little to no intelligence. All of which betrayed hallmarks of an Ogre.

And one that quite clearly didn't appreciate having it's sleep disturbed.

The ogre growled as he struggled onto his feet. Reaching for a massive club, which he had been using for a pillow, the monstrosity glared at the intruders.

"Youse woke me up" the Ogre rumbled "Youse gunna pay!"

"So tell me" Jarek asked Torestorm "Got any bright ideas?"

All eyes turned to the Dreadlord as he paused, his brow furrowing in thought.

Suddenly he snapped his fingers.

"Funny you should say that" the Dreadlord replied "Got any rope?"

"I've got a whip if it's of any help…" Jarek replied.

"Better still" the elf grinned "Think you can aim for his feet?"

"I'm not sure if I can pull that off….." Jarek started.

"Well now's a good time to find out!" Torestorm shouted, shoving the Tomb Raider forward.

Jarek blinked as the ogre lumbered towards him. The brute, it's face twisted with rage, glared at the little man and lifted it's club.

Suddenly, Jarek drew his whip, and, in one swift motion, flicked it out in a wide arc at the monster's direction. The whip shot through the air and to the ogre's feet.

And within seconds, the whip made contact with the Ogre's left leg and proceeded to wrap itself around.

The Ogre blinked in astonishment.

"Wot's dis?" he rumbled.

"Excellent work human!" Torestorm yelled, hurrying over and grasping the whip "Dimitri? To me!"

The bounty hunter hurried over and gripped the whip.

"Now pull!"

And with that, the men and the elf pulled the whip with all their might. The Ogre paused, in surprise, and tried to move forward. But with his leg movements being restricted by the pulling of the whip, he couldn't keep his balance. The ogre staggered but only briefly: He came tumbling down, face first, on the floor with an enormous crash.

Lilly blinked.

"You know, that wasn't a half bad idea."

"Of course" Torestorm said "Now, make sure he stays down."

But Dimitri was already there. Hurrying towards the prostrate form of the ogre, he drew his crossbow. Aiming directly at the ogre's head, he pulled the trigger. At point blank range, he couldn't possibly miss – the bolt slammed into the ogre's skull, penetrating its way through bone and into the monster's brain.

The ogre growled one last growl of defiance before collapsing down for the last time.

"I doubt he'll have his sleep disturbed again" the Dreadlord said.

"Hey look!" Jarek pointing ahead with the light illuminated from the lantern.

Beyond the Ogre was a doorway leading into a darkened room.

"You know" Torestorm said "This looks exactly like the place someone would very much hide."

"Someone like a cult?" Lilly added.

"Exactly."

The four warriors then entered the newly discovered room.

"Who would carve rooms like this from a cave?" Lilly asked.

"Dwarves most likely" the elf answered "They must've carved out an outpost of some kind only for it to be abandoned. But places like this may outlast their creators"

"You don't say?" Jarek exclaimed "Well, given this place's integrity, I'm sure there must be some treasure here somewhere! Maybe something there's something the dwarves overlooked!"

"Unlikely" the Dreadlord snorted.

"Hey wait a moment!" Lilly said "We must be careful! If a cult of Chaos has truly taken up residency here, then they will surely have a range of traps set up!"

"Ha!" Torestorm said "To hell with traps!"

But even as he said such words, a snickering sound emerged from the darkness.

"Over there!" Lilly said.

And then shapes began emerging into the light. Shapes that revealed themselves to be a pair of goblins, clutching wicked spears and grinning evilly.

"Looks like trouble" the elf growled.

And then, without warning, the goblins attacked, heading for the nearest target.

Which happened to be Jarek. The tomb raider readied his sword but the first goblin was too quick. Using his long spear and his small stature to his advantage, the goblin slammed his spear forward. The weapon struck the tomb raider in his leg and buried itself deep in. Jarek roared with pain and stumbled forward.

"Jarek!" Lilly exclaimed.

The first goblin laughed a cruel laugh and prepared to strike a second time.

But it never came – for something grabbed the goblin from behind and lifted him off the ground.

The goblin squirmed as he was lifted high into the air with both his arms held in check by a pair of strong elbows. Confused, the goblin glanced a red eye over his shoulder and was immediately confronted with the penetrating gaze of Torestorm.

Then, without warning, the elf flung the green-skin across the room. The goblin struck the wall head first and crumbled into a heap on the floor below.

Meanwhile, the second goblin advanced, ready to deliver an equally nasty blow to the wounded tomb raider.

But something stepped forward blocking his way.

The goblin looked up, only to be confronted with the sight of Dimitri. The big Kislevite glared down and brought his axe down upon the goblin. The goblin held up his shield but to no avail: The axe hit the shield with such force that the shield was smashed to pieces.

The goblin shrieked in horror before turning around and bolting into the darkness.

"After him!" Torestorm commanded.

Lilly nodded and took up pursuit.

She hadn't gone far before something underneath her feet resonated with a click.

And then, the floor beneath the priestess disappeared.

"Aaaargh!" Lilly yelled as she tumbled into the newly formed pit.

"Lilly!" Jarek yelled, getting to his feet.

"Watch out for traps huh?" Torestorm chuckled to himself.

Jarek, despite his wounds made his way over to the pit.

"Are you all right?" he called.

"Yes!" came the reply "Just a touch sore."

"Hold on, I'll have you out."

And with that Jarek pulled out a rope and threw it down the pit.

"Got it?' he called.

"Yes."

And with that, he began pulling the priestess up out of the pit. It wasn't an easy task, seeing as his legs were throbbing from his wounds but he still kept pulling up the rope.

It isn't take long before Lilly emerged from the pit. The first thing she was Jarek extending his hand. The second thing she saw his legs – his trousers stained red with the blood from his wounds.

"You're still hurt!" she exclaimed.

"Oh it's nothing…"

"You pulled me out of there when you were still hurt?" Lilly said "Oh my….."

* * *

Beyond the first room lay a passageway cut deep into the rock. It was here that the warriors made their way deeper underneath the surface.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Lilly asked.

"Yes" Jarek replied.

"I can heal that wound if you want"

"Oh no, it's nothing. I've had worse"

"Hate to tell you this but that's not the first time I've hear…"

"Quiet!" Torestorm hissed "I can sense something close."

"Something?" Lilly echoed "Like that?"

Suddenly, from out of the darkness came an arrow. It bolted through the air, over the heads of the Reavers and thudded into the wall.

"Something like that" Torestorm answered.

"Look!" Jarek exclaimed "Up ahead."

And there, illuminated by the light of the lantern stood a figure. It stood in front of a door, shrouded in a black cloak and aiming a longbow at the mercenaries. The figure was tall in stature and seemed to be at edge.

"This can't be good" the tomb raider said.

"So what do we do?" Lilly asked Torestorm "Do we attack?"

"He certainly doesn't look like a goblin" the elf noted "But he could easily be a cultist"

Immediately, Dimitri stepped forward, his crossbow raised and trained on the newcomer.

"What makes you think he could be a threat?" Lilly asked.

"Only one way to find out" Torestorm replied.

The elf took a step forward – the figure responded by taking a step back, until his back was against the wall.

Torestorm paused – noting the change.

"Hail thee stranger!" he greeted

"I got here first. Beat it Children!" came the response. It came from beneath the cloak and resonated with a masculine quality.

"Who are you calling children?" Torestorm shot back.

"What are you doing here?' the figure demanded "State your business!"

"We seek to end the evil here in this earth. What about you?"

"Ending the evil? How do you intend to do that?"

"We seek to destroy the statue located here" Torestorm answered.

Upon hearing this, the figure lowered his bow and took a step forward.

"You" he said "You're an elf."

And with that, the figure withdrew his hood, revealing a handsome face with jet black hair and pointed ears. The figure appeared young but there was something unnatural about him – with the most telling factor was a strip of facial hair that travelled down the man's chin. Indeed, it was this that betrayed the man's status as a half-elf.

"It seems we have a common goal" the half-elf said "I too seek to end the evil residing here.

"I am Erelos."

"Well then Erelos" Torestorm said "Seeing as your fight is our fight, would you like to join us?"

"What?" Lilly hissed.

"Are you crazy?" Jarek added.

But the Dreadlord ignored them both.

"Very well then" the half-elf said "I have reason to believe that the heart of this evil lies beyond this door."

"Then that's where we shall head" Torestorm said.

Jarek and Lilly exchanged glances and moved forward to join their new ally. As they did so, Torestorm turned to Dimitri.

"At the first sign of trouble kill him" he ordered in hushed tones.

The Kislevite nodded.

* * *

The griffon loomed above the five warriors. It bore an impressive set of claws and cruel beak. Its wings were outstretched, ready to take flight. It looked like the type of beast that could tear apart a group of Reiksguard knights with ease.

It was also made of gold and had gems in place of eyes.

The Reavers and their ally looked up at the statue, in awe.

"I'll give the cultists credit" Lilly said "They sure know a good display of craftsmanship when they see one"

Suddenly, Jarek saw something – something strong enough to tear his eyes away from the statue.

It was a treasure chest.

"Aha!" he grinned "Now this looks promising!"

And with that, he bolted for the chest.

Erelos smiled up at the statue.

"Now, that is a treasure worth taking!"

"Treasure?" Torestorm exclaimed - but the half-elf was already running for the griffon. In a series of quick movements, he began climbing his way up the statue.

"Now just wait a moment here!" Torestorm began but then he felt a hand on his shoulder.

The elf turned to see Lilly. The priestess was pointing to something beyond the griffon.

"Over there!" she exclaimed.

There, creeping from behind the statue, was a massive hound. It had jet-black fur, glowing red eyes and an impressive array of sharp fangs.

Dimitri had seen the hound too. He was already moving towards it, his crossbow in hand. Raising it, he fired a bolt. The bolt sailed above the hound only to slam into the wall above it.

The hound growled, as fumes of smoke emitted from it's mouth. And then, without warning, the beast breathed a column of flame! The flames rushed towards Dimitri engulfing him completely.

Torestorm watched in alarm as Lilly hurried over to provide aid. The elf's gaze then travelled over to Jarek, who was fiddling with the lock on the chest. Suddenly, the tomb raider managed to break it – but then his eyes grew with panic.

"Shit!" Jarek yelled.

Immediately, as if in response, the chamber was rocked by an explosion, from the chest itself. With instincts forged from this type of thing happening before, Jarek dived out of the way and rolled out of harm's way.

Up above Erelos pried a knife into the griffon's head. With ease, he managed to retrieve both gems.

"Beautiful" he grinned.

"You're only here for the gems aren't you?" Torestorm demanded from below.

"True," the half elf replied "But if I were you I would be more concerned for your comrades."

Torestorm blinked at the hound prowling at the statue's feet and Dimitri on fire. The Kislevite roared with pain as Lilly was dousing him with a blanket.

With a sigh, Torestorm reached behind his back and pulled out a bow. Loading up an arrow, he took aim at the hound and fired.

By now, the flames on Dimitri had died down, through the efforts of Lilly and her blanket. Then, with almost mechanical like movement, he drew forth a short bow of his own. Pulling out a silver arrow, he took aim as the hound thundered towards him.

This time, the arrow struck home. The hound yelped with pain at the newly-created wound. Then it growled at bounty hunter but only briefly: Within seconds, it's eyelids began to droop and it's body came crashing down to the floor. The hound then closed it's eyes completely and fell into a deep sleep.

"Sleeping arrow?" Torestrom asked.

The bounty hunter nodded.

"I don't where you got it but you have my thanks" the Dreadlord grinned.

He then turned to Erelos.

"So tell me" he said "What are you planning?"

From atop the statue, the half-elf gazed at the gem with fascination.

"Well, I don't know about you but I've got what I came here for" he said, not once taking his gaze away.

"Well as it so happens, we too have been after the gems" the elf growled "Furthermore, I don't like being duped."

Erelos paused.

"Very well then" he said "How about we make a deal: I'll give you a share in the profits."

"Fifty-fifty?" Torestorm replied, readying another arrow.

"Sure thing!"

"Good" the Dreadlord said, smiling a wolfish smile "When you're ready we'll be on our way.

"Oh and take your time – there's no rush."

And with that, he strode over to the sleeping hound. Drawing forth one of his twin blades, he rammed it deep into the hound's flesh.

The hound woke up with a roar. Red eyes blazing, it staggered to it's feet, growling in both pain and anger.

"What did you do that for?" Lilly yelled.

"Just making sure he doesn't try and follow us."

The hound turned a glaring eye towards its nearest target:

Dimitri.

Taking a deep breath, the hound breathed down another column of flame. And once again, the bounty hunter was caught in the middle of it. The Keslivite roared with pain as flames lit up across his body.

But in the midst of it all, the bounty hunter managed to keep his mind under control. Glaring at the hound, he advanced. Despite every muscle in his body groaning with protest and his flesh cracking with the flame, the bounty pulled out his axe and drove it deep into the hound's body.

The hound yelped with pain from the new wound.

"Hold on Dimitri!" Lilly said "Here!"

And with that, she flung the contents of her water bottle on the burning man. Within several short moments, the water doused the flames.

By now, Erelos had climbed down off the statue and was waiting by the doorway.

"Come on!" he barked "Is this going to take all day?"

"Very well then!" Torestorm growled. In one swift movement, he grappled the hound from behind. Keeping the hound's back legs on the ground, the Dreadlord used all his strength to lift the hound's front legs high up into the air. The hound struggled and growled it's disapproval but the Torestorm kept his grip.

"Dimitri!" he bellowed "It's all yours!"

The Kislevite nodded and drove his axe forward in a low arc. The blade struck the hound in the throat. The hound let out on final yelp of defiance – that was until its brain told it that it was dead. Immediately, the red glow diminished from its eye and the body slumped forward. Torestorm stepped back as the body of the now dead hound collapsed on the floor.

Just then Jarek stepped away from the treasure chest, gold crowns in his hands. He then turned to the other four.

"So" he said "What did I miss?"

* * *

The goblins glared at the five intruders.

"We don't want youse around here!" one sneered.

The other three grinned in agreement and readied their weapons. These intruders had burst in here, the cave the goblins had made as their home, and slew some of their number. But now, they have been intercepted – if they thought they were going to escape then they've got another thing coming!

"Then you are a fool to get in our way" Torestorm replied.

With quick movements, he reached forward and grabbed the nearest goblin by his neck. Lifting him clean off the ground, the Dreadlord then proceeded to throw him down on the floor with tremendous force. The goblin hit the ground with a loud crack that could only have come from bones being broken. And for a finishing move, the elf kicked the goblin in between the legs.

"Come on" Erelos grumbled "We don't have time for this!"

"I don't see you helping!" Torestorm shot back.

With a sigh, Erelos drew his sword and charged into battle. With quick movements he cut a series of quick blade arcs. The goblin blinked as his shield split apart.

This was followed by the shaft of his spear shattering.

And then a series of gashes made their way across his chest.

And then his throat spilt open….

Dimitri charged forward with his axe in hand. The nearest goblin to him immediately drove his spear froward but the Kislevite anticipated such a move. Dodging the spear's blade, he then grabbed the spear shaft with a burly hand. The goblin blinked in astonishment as the spear was ripped out of his hand.

And suddenly, his skull felt the brunt of an axe being driven through it.

Torestorm's eye then flew on the last goblin. The green-skin was backing away, his face frozen with fear. Acting quickly, Torestorm leapt into the air.

What happened next happened very quickly.

Utilising elven speed, the Dreadlord bore down on the goblin. Before the green-skin knew what was happening, he could feel himself being struck with such force that it sent him flying into the air. The goblin then landed on the floor with a sickening crash - as he did so, Torestorm's feet re-established contact with the floor.

And with that, the last green-skin residing in the cave died.

* * *

Torestorm sat down by the river.

He paused, taking in a few deep breaths of the forest air. All around, he could hear was stillness, tainted only by the flow of water and the calls of a distant bird.

The journey back to civilisation had so far proven to be an uneventful one. Jarek seemed quite delighted to be alive and significantly richer than before. Similarly Lilly didn't seem at all bothered.

The Dreadlord's brow furrowed. In the short time that he'd known the two humans, neither of them had taken anything seriously: The evils that resided in this world, the mission assigned to them by Althion or the threat of facing the dangers that lurk underneath the gaze of men.

What twist of fate led him to be stuck with these two?

But then there was Dimitri: he seemed unbothered at all by the mission or the people he was made to work with. But then again, it was hard to determine what he thought as he was mute – but just because he never said a word didn't mean he actually was. Still, as long he made the foes they faced dead fast then that was fine by the Dreadlord.

And then there was Erelos.

Who was this character? He was a rogue – and a half-breed at that. He wanted those gems all right but he never explained why. True he was a rogue in nature but he seemed awfully keen to make a deal and offer a share in his winnings.

Well, for a rogue at least.

So far on the journey back, he had kept to himself a lot. He said little and seemed awfully selective on what questions to answer. In particular, he seemed annoyed with any questions dealing with his heritage.

But then….

Wait a minute.

What was that?

The elf's thoughts were broken with the unmistakable sparkle of metal. He blinked, before looking again.

And there, his sharp elven eyes saw something metallic in the river.

He got his feet and made his way into the water. He then reached down.

And from the river, the elf pulled out a magnificent broadsword. Its blade was long and sharp, and the hilt was made from gold and beset with red gems. It sparkled with a mixture of water droplets and metal. It was superbly crafted but bore no signs of it's origin. It was beautiful to behold but showed no indication of age or how long it had been in the river.

Torestorm blinked. Who could've left such a beautiful looking sword in this river?

But then he grinned a wolfish grin. Whoever did, it was their loss.

* * *

When the Reavers returned to Weissbruck, Althion was waiting for them. He met them at the town gate.

"Well now" he said "Glad to see you all alive and well.

"I trust the mission was a success?"

Torestorm nodded.

"So where are the gems?"

"Ask him" the Dreadlord answered, jabbing a thumb behind him.

Erelos stepped forward.

Althion gazed at the half-elf up and down, his brow furrowed.

Erelos fixed the mage with a steely gaze, all too aware of the radiating contempt that was being inspired in Althion's eyes.

"Where are the gems?" the mage repeated.

The half-elf produced a small bag and handed it to the mage. Althion opened the bag and proceeded to examine the contents.

"These warriors all did a commendable job in retrieving them" the half-elf said softly.

But Althion didn't seem to pay any attention.

"You have done well" the mage said, addressing the Dreadlord "As for your pay…"

"I want him to receive half of it" Torestorm said sharply, nodding in Erelos' direction "His assistance proved invaluable."

Althion blinked as did Erelos.

The mage's gaze then hardened.

"Fine" he said bluntly.

Without casting a single look in Erelos' direction he cast a small bag towards him.

Erelos caught the bag and felt, through the fabric, the shape of heavy coins. It was then his rogue instincts took over – spinning on his heel, he turned and headed into Weissbruck.

"Hey wait!" came a shout behind him but he didn't break stride.

As befit of a rogue, Erelos disappeared into the crowded streets of the town.

A part of him felt hollow in that he didn't say goodbye to the four mercenaries who'd helped him – or at least a thank you. They certainly fought well and showed signs that they were the type that kept their word. But he had to go - there was something about that mage that made him feel…

….ill at-ease.

Maybe it was contempt for being a half-breed but there was something about that elf – Erelos couldn't put his finger on it but it bothered him a lot.

Still, those warriors calling themselves the Dragonfire Reavers certainly seemed courageous enough and skilled in combat at least. It seemed a disappointment that he couldn't thank them properly.

But no matter, he was certain that their paths would cross again in the future…..


	5. Secrets of the Cytharai: Hunter's Trail

**Secrets of the Cytharai**

**V**

**Hunter's Trail**

Heinrich was a huge man: A mountain of muscle, an unshaven chin and a mop of orange hair resting on his scalp. Dressed in a dirty apron and black leggings, he gripped a hammer and tongs tightly in his hand and proceeded to work bashing a piece of warm metal into shape.

The only blacksmith in Weissbruck, Heinrich made a decent living fashioning metal items for use by the townspeople. Mostly, he manufactured horseshoes but on occasion, the watch had him manufacture weapons and armour.

It was hard work but his craftsmanship was unmatched.

As he hammered away, Heinrich suddenly got the feeling he was being watched.

He looked up to see a tall figure standing in the doorway.

"Can I help you there?' the blacksmith asked, putting down his hammer.

"You're the blacksmith here, yes?" the figure asked.

"That's right."

"You work alone?"

"Yes."

"Ever thought of taking on an apprentice?"

Heinrich blinked as the figure stepped into the workshop and into view. He revealed himself to be a tall figure dressed in ornate armour and carrying a scabbard, both of which betrayed an extraordinary degree of craftsmanship.

"An elf?" the blacksmith exclaimed. "You want to be an apprentice blacksmith? You sure don't look like one: What do you know?"

"Centuries of experience _human._"

Heinrich blinked.

"Well, have you ever made any weapons before?" he growled.

The elf didn't reply – instead he held out the scabbard before him. Heinrich took it for a closer look.

But what he saw wasn't quite what he was expecting.

The scabbard itself was fashioned from solid gold. From one end of the scabbard to the however, were images of dragons, griffons and eagles, all battling against a creature that resembled a daemon. The level of detail was astonishing and betrayed a level of dedicated craftsmanship that seemed alien to Heinrich.

The sword inside however was something else: It was in the shape of a scimitar, yet it carried with it a mirror polish shine and a hilt that was painstakingly carved out of again solid gold. Sure the weapon may have had a few chips and dents along its blade but somehow it radiated with a beauty that was otherworldly.

He had always heard the elven weapons were on a different level to human weapons but to see one so close was an extraordinary sight indeed.

"Well then," the blacksmith grinned "Let's see what you can do."

Torestorm smiled.

* * *

"So," Lilly asked "See anything you like?"

Dimitri said nothing.

"Come on! This is my treat!"

Still the bounty hunter said nothing.

The priestess sighed in exasperation.

"Just pick out something you need and I'll get it for you!"

Dimitri remained silent as he turned away.

Lilly sighed, then cast her gaze over to Jarek.

The Tomb Raider was looking over a rack of weapons with an eager eye. Then, he looked up and gestured upwards.

"Lilly!" he grinned, pointing up at a long rifle that could have only come from Hochland. "Reckon you can get me one of those?"

The priestess sighed again.

The three warriors were making their way through a weapon store. Through saving her money, Lilly had accumulated a small fortune and was keen in spending it. So, whilst they wait for new orders from Althion, she insisted on taking Jarek and Dimitri out shopping.

For even the most hard-bitten mercenaries still needed to take a day off.

Just then Dimitri raised his hand and indicated ahead.

And there was a full suit of leather armour, consisting of boots, cap, gauntlets and jerkin.

"You want that?" Lilly inquired.

The bounty hunter nodded.

She smiled, delighted that at least some progress had been made.

Might as well make the most of it….

"You want some quarrels too?" She asked. "Your crossbow could do with some."

Again the Kislevite nodded his consent. Jarek then hurried over carrying a brown sack.

"Lilly?" he said. "I think this will do nicely."

The priestess blinked.

"Well, at least it's more manageable than a rifle." she said.

The Tomb Raider shrugged. "I just need something to carry my gear in."

"Makes sense."

Lilly then turned to the bounty hunter.

"You want one too?"

The Kislevite nodded, before heading off in the direction of some crossbow quarrels.

"It would help if he said something once in a while." The priestess murmured.

"He must be mute." Jarek suggested. "No one could be so silent for so long."

"I don't know," Lilly said "He can at least scream with pain when the monsters attack him."

"True but I don't think so," Jarek retorted "And you can't hope to get anything out of a man who can't talk."

Moments later, the trio found themselves at the counter, their purchases spread before them.

"So, who's going to pay for this lot?" The attendant grinned.

"Right here," Lilly said, producing a small pouch of coin and sliding across the counter surface.

The attendant caught the pouch and opened it, a greedy glint in his eye.

"Looks like I'm closing early," he chuckled.

Lilly then turned to Dimitri.

"Where do you want to go now?"

The bounty motioned towards the door. The priestess blinked.

"Very well then," she said. "Do you want us to leave your gear in the tavern?"

The Kislevite nodded and, without waiting for response, turned around and headed for the door.

"Wait!" Lilly exclaimed but Dimitri, without once breaking stride, went over to the door and pushed it open.

"He could've at least said thank you," the priestess muttered.

"I told you." Jarek said. "He's a mute. And mutes don't talk."

Lilly blinked before nodding.

* * *

Outside, Dimitri quickly disappeared into the crowded street. Moving quickly and quietly, he made his way through the people that made up the regular daily life in Weissbruck.

All around, he could hear all kinds of talk - but he tried not to pay too much attention. It was, after all, regular talk by the people of Weissbruck - the type of people who'd rather keep their distance from bounty hunters.

Besides, what the Kislevite could hear was likely no more different than what could be said in the next village.

"….Fresh fruit! Picked this morning!..."

"….Join the watch! Be a Man! Decent wages!..."

"…You cheated me with this forgery!..."

"….I heard a scratching noise last night underneath my floorboards…."

"….Mercenaries are turning up here in this town. Something's gonna blow…."

"….After some meat? Well sir, you've come to the right place…."

"Hold it right there," growled a voice from behind Dimitri.

The bounty hunter flicked his head around to see a tall, well dressed man. In his hand was a small hand gun.

"You know me?" the man said "You owe me a debt."

The bounty hunter gave a blank stare.

"Don't act dumb!" the man said. "Pay up or face the consequences."

Dimitri's brow furrowed but he nodded his consent.

"So you got the money?" the man asked. "When can I see it?"

The Kislevite motioned for the man to follow.

The two men wandered through the busy streets before arriving at the mouth of an alley. Without a second thought, the indebted man followed Dimitri in.

"So where is the money?" he asked.

He got no reply – instead he felt the cold steel of a dagger into his ribs.

The man toppled forward, under the watch of a cold pitiless gaze of the bounty hunter.

* * *

As the sun descended over Weissbruck, the populace began retreating to their homes, to rest the night away before the next dawn.

Dimitri was heading towards the local tavern. For the time being, it was somewhere to stay: Torestorm had arranged to have four rooms in their continuous use, thus effectively making it their base of operations, where the Reavers rested, stored their gear and made plans.

The Kislevite arrived at the door of the tavern. Before he entered it, he paused and looked upwards to the sign that swung above it.

It bore the words The Howling Gryphon accompanied by an image of a ferocious beast with an eagle's head, wings, claws and a lion's body.

Shrugging, the bounty hunter entered the building. Wasting no time, he headed straight for the dining hall, keen for some ale.

It wasn't anywhere near to the standards of the vodka he was used to in Kislev but it would do for now.

The bounty hunter made his way to the bar.

"Hey there," grinned the man who stood behind the bar, "Looking for some ale, huh?"

Dimitri blinked – he recognised this man. He had introduced himself to the Reavers earlier that day as Walter, owner of the Howling Gryphon.

Walter was a burly man, boasting muscled arms, a collection of impressive scars and a shaven head. According to local legend, he was a former adventurer who has since retired to run a tavern. Yet his fighting skills hadn't diminished: As many a drunk had found out many times before, Walter was still quite capable of packing a mean right hook.

Not to mention breaking a nose.

Dimitri nodded.

"Excellent choice!" Walter grinned, thrusting a tankard in the Kislevite's direction.

Suddenly, the bounty hunter felt a hand on his shoulder.

A short, obese and raggedly-looking follow stepped out in front of the bounty hunter. The man looked a wreck, boasting torn clothes, a beaten appearance and a demented expression.

"Do you know who I am?" the man said, in a thick Tilean accent.

Dimitri said nothing.

"I am Antonio!" the man snapped "You captured me days ago! You beat me and handed me to the authorities!"

Dimitri still said nothing. Unperturbed the man named Antonio continued raving:

"But I have escaped – Yes I escaped. The thought of you kept me going. The thought of exacting my revenge on you. Do you have any idea how much trouble you've caused me? Believe you me, revenge is…."

But Antonio never got to finish his speech: He was interrupted with Dimitri's fist slamming its way across the Tilean's jaw. This sent the former crime lord collapsing to the floor.

* * *

Elsewhere, in amongst the crowds of people all packing up for the day and heading homeward, Lilly was heading towards the temple of Shallya.

She had since parted ways with Jarek, leaving him to return to the Howling Gryphon with the day's shopping in hand. It seemed harsh to make him play the role of a pack mule but he insisted on doing it himself.

Lilly made her way through the thinning streets. It seemed hardly the brightest of ideas to go to the temple at this late hour but her duty, as a priestess of Shallya, demanded it.

As she made her way through the streets, Lilly was so deep in thought she didn't notice the street becoming otherwise empty.

Nor did she notice the buildings around her growing dilapidated and unfamiliar.

Nor did she hear the sound of feet amassing behind her.

"Hey!" came a shout.

And in an instant, the priestess was broken from her reverie. She flicked her head around and was immediately confronted with the sight of a small group of angry looking men behind her. They were numbered five and all dressed in ragged robes.

Lilly blinked – where did they all come from?

No one else appeared to be around – had she wandered down the wrong street by mistake?

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"We've been looking for you!" one said.

"Yeah, the boss wants yer!" said another.

"Well then" Lilly grinned "Maybe 'the boss' should've come and sought me out himself!"

"You're a fool!" the first man thundered "You dare underestimate us? You'll pay!"

And thus the men drew weapons and began to advance.

"Is that a challenge?" the priestess said "You dare call me a fool?"

The first man said nothing. Instead he raised a hand high in the air and snapped his fingers.

And then, many more men emerged. They came from the alleyways around the priestess, and circled her. They too were wearing ragged white robes and were carrying weapons.

Lilly blinked and gripped her staff tightly. She was completely surrounded.

She looked around in desperation but no one else was in sight. No other townsfolk and none of her comrades.

She was all alone against an angry mob.

Lilly could feel her grip on her staff grow tighter as the mob circled closer around her. They may want to kill her but she won't be going without a fight!

"Shallya, be with me!" she cried.

* * *

The next day, before dawn, a soft mist came creeping in to engulf Weissbruck. All around was grey, even in this early hour of the morning. All was silent.

It was here that Torestorm found himself waiting outside the Howling Gryphon, waiting for his comrades.

He cast a gaze upward to the cloudy sky, his mind wandering.

The previous evening, the Reavers had been summoned to Althion's quarters with a new mission: Through breaking the spell of concealment the Moonshadow Carnival has since collapsed into disarray. This was a major blow which the cult might never recover from. As such, the two leaders had fled north, posing as merchants. However, according to the Starlight Guardians' intelligence, the leaders had been captured by an Orc chieftain by the name of Greentusk the Mangler. As such, the Reavers were charged with entering Greentusk's hideout, located in a mountain range south of Weissbruck called the Hagar Crybs, and slay the leaders themselves. Of course, it seemed doubtful that the leaders would last long in the hand of the Orcs but Althion wanted to make sure.

Because should the leaders die the cult will collapse for good.

Torestorm's brow furrowed. Althion seemed convinced it would happen that way, but to Torestorm, such an occurrence seemed too easy…...

But that wasn't the thing on the Dreadlord's mind.

Lilly hadn't returned to the tavern from the previous day. As such, she had yet to be informed of their latest mission from Althion. It was unusual seeing as she would almost certainly return to her bed and, being a priestess, would hardly spend the night carousing.

Jarek said the last time he saw Lilly, she was heading to the temple of Shallya. It was possible she may have spent the night there healing the sick and injured but it seemed strange she hadn't returned to the inn for sleep.

The elf had asked Walter if Lilly had come in but she hadn't. Investigating her bed revealed it unused. Faced with the possibility of leaving someone behind, Torestorm ordered Dimitri and Jarek to scour the town and try to find her.

It seemed doubtful to perform a thorough search in such a small time frame but it was better than nothing.

Just then, the elf's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps.

The Dreadlord looked up to see Dimitri approach.

"Seen any sign of Lilly?" Torestorm asked.

Dimitri shook his head.

"Strange," the elf mused "It isn't like her to disappear like that."

The Kislevite said nothing.

"Did you see anything strange last night?" the Dreadlord demanded. "Hear anything that seemed out of the ordinary?"

The bounty hunter shook his head.

Torestorm's gaze hardened. There's something about this disappearance that didn't add up.

"Dimitri," he said urgently "If you saw anything or know anything you need to tell me now!"

But the silent bounty hunter continued to remain silent.

"Oh there's no point talking to you," the Dreadlord muttered "You can't…."

"Hey!" came a shout.

The elf and Kislevite looked up to see Jarek come running over.

"I had a look around and I couldn't see her," he said "I even asked at the temple: They hadn't seen her either."

"Great," the elf growled.

"So what do we do?"

A silence descended amongst the trio, with two pairs of human eyes turning to the elf.

"There isn't much we can do," Torestorm said finally "We're going. With or without the priestess."

"What?" Jarek exclaimed "Without Lilly?"

"I have some healing potions on me if that's your concern."

"Well no" the tomb raider replied "but Lilly is one of us!"

"She probably got lost somewhere," Torestorm growled. "Whatever the reason, I have faith in Lilly that she'll be able to get out of whatever fix she's in. Right now however, we three have a job to do."

And with that, he turned and walked away. Dimitri shrugged and followed.

"But…." Jarek started.

"I'm willing to wager that when we return, she'll be waiting for us." the Dreadlord said.

Jarek blinked but eventually followed.

* * *

The three warriors spent the day journeying southward from Weissbruck. By mid afternoon, they arrived in the mountainous range known as the Hagar Crybs.

From there, it didn't take long to find exactly what they were looking for: a cave nestled in the side of the mountain – complete with it's mouth blocked off by an iron portcullis.

It wasn't too hard to find – anyone would've surely noticed a crudely fashioned sign bearing an all-too Orcish script of 'Humies Keep Out!'

Torestorm gazed up at the sign.

"Those green-skins aren't exactly subtle," he muttered.

"No humans huh?" Jarek grinned at Torestorm. "How about elves?"

"Sounds more like an invitation to me," the elf agreed, cracking his knuckles.

Turning his attention away from the sign, Torestorm made his way over to the portcullis and peered into the darkness that lay beyond it.

Illuminated by the light of the day, the cave revealed much: Beyond the portcullis, was a room carved into the rock. In the middle of the room was a well-used lever with a length of rope that reached upwards, disappearing into the heights of the ceiling. In the far wall was a rough door.

"So how do we get in?" Jarek asked.

Dimitri gripped the portcullis with both hands and attempted to lift it.

"You think that's going to work?" the Tomb Raider joked.

The portcullis budged slightly.

"You know," Torestorm said "I think it might."

Acting quickly, he and Jarek both gripped the portcullis and added their own strength into the lifting.

Gradually, through the combined efforts of the trio, the portcullis was lifted upwards. As the three mercenaries lifted the iron portcullis above their heads, a soft click was heard.

"What was that?" Jarek demanded, his raiding instincts having grown accustomed to any signs that may lead to a potential trap.

"Wait a minute," the Dreadlord said "This isn't going any further."

And it was true: The portcullis was stuck.

Torestorm motioned they all step aside. And as they did, the portcullis remained open, locked into place. The trio then stepped into the cave.

"Well at least we have a way out," Jarek said.

"What?" Torestorm said, "I hope you're not planning to run away."

Jarek opened his mouth to protest…

…But the door, nestled in the other side of the cave, flung open with a terrific bang. And then five orcs burst in, each wielding a crude, but still quite brutal-looking, weapon.

"Humies!" The leading one roared, "Intrudin' Humies gunna die!"

"I am NOT a human!" Torestorm growled, drawing his twin blades.

And, as if to prove his point, the Dreadlord charged, his legs moving at a great speed and with the fluidity of water. He went for the nearest Orc and into battle. Drawing his weapon, Jarek followed.

With moves that were too quick for the brutish Orcs, Torestorm went for the first Orc. The green-skin drove a wide slash in a huge arc, but the Dreadlord was too fast. Before the green-skin knew what happening, he felt the elf's blade penetrate it's way deep into his body.

As the orc toppled forward and to the floor, a second orc rose to challenge Torestorm. He reached out a hand in an attempt to grab the elusive elf, but the Dreadlord was ready for him. Moving with a grace and speed, he dodged underneath the Orc's arm and drove his blade upwards, slashing his throat wide open.

One Orc charged for the bounty hunter but Dimitri didn't seem bothered in the slightest: Reaching out his arms, the Kislevite managed to evade the green-skins blows and grasp the front of the Orc's armour. Then, using the Orc's weight against him, he hurled the green-skin to the floor. The Orc came crashing down to the floor with an incredible thud accompanied with a groan.

But whereas the Orc felt the impact, he didn't feel the axe that crashed into his skull.

Meanwhile, Jarek was fighting his own fight against the Orcs. One advanced towards him, an ugly sword raised. Thinking quickly, the Tomb Raider pulled out his whip and flicked it out in front. Before the orc knew what was happening, it caught the Orc on his sword arm and wrapped it's way around his wrist. Grinning, Jarek pulled forward, dragging the Orc along towards him.

And what happened next happened very quickly.

With the Orc at his mercy, Jarek raised his sword high and brought it down hard and fast on the neck, severing the head from the rest of the body.

The Tomb Raider's attention then turned to the last green-skin left standing. The brute lumbered forward a wicked-looking blade at the ready. Acting quickly, the Tomb Raider, dived feet first for the floor. Sliding across the floor, he headed towards the Orc's legs.

And as he did so, he thrust his sword high – as it penetrated its way into the green-skin's stomach.

The now dead Orc came crashing down upon the Tomb Raider.

Torestorm came striding over as Jarek struggled his way free from underneath the green corpse. The Tomb Raider then grinned up at the Dreadlord.

"Well that was easy," he said.

"I won't be so conceited," the Dreadlord said, "We've only just started and we're without our healer."

"I wonder where Lilly is," Jarek said, getting to his feet. "You don't suppose she was kidnapped?'

"Jarek," Torestorm asked "Who in their right mind would want to kidnap a priestess of Shallya?"

* * *

Elsewhere, a pair of eyes were slowly regaining focus.

Lilly groaned, as consciousness came slowly creeping back. Her head throbbed and she felt groggy. What happened….?

The last thing she recalled was being overcome by that angry mob….

And then her senses came back to her. It was then she felt her body next to something cold and hard.

And her wrists and ankles were restrained with rope.

Blinking twice, she quickly sought to make sense of her surroundings.

She was lying, tied up, on the floor of a room. A room made of cold stone that was otherwise empty. Across from Lilly was a small flight of steps that led to a door. Above her head, a small shaft of light came streaming in from a small hole in the ceiling.

The priestess groaned. Where on earth was she….?

But the room and the ropes told her enough: She was a prisoner. But to who? Did that angry mob do this? The priestess struggled against the rope but she was secured tight.

Suddenly, Lilly heard a noise. She cast her gaze skyward to see the door open and a figure step through.

With little light in the room, the figure kept hidden in the shadows. All the figure revealed of themselves was a silhouette.

"Aha, you're awake," the figure said in a deep voice, betraying the figure's masculinity.

The man than closed the door and sat down on the steps. In doing so, a pair of legs enclosed within a white robe emerged from the shadows.

"Who…who are you?" Lilly said.

"I am Zharradan," the man said, his voice as smooth as velvet "Ever heard of me?"

"Should I have?"

"Obviously not," the voice replied, adopting a playful tone "I'm hurt."

"You will be when I'm free, you bastard!" Lilly growled. "Why have you done this? What do you want from me?"

But the man named Zharradan ignored her.

"So you don't recognise my name?" he said. "Funny, I figured your pet bounty hunter would've told you,"

This made Lilly look up sharply.

"Bounty Hunter?" she echoed. "You know Dimitri?"

"Know him?" the voice chuckled, "Of course I know him. He's been chasing me for years. We have crossed blades on many occasions but, try as I might to escape his clutches, the tenacious bastard keeps tracking me down."

The priestess blinked, as the voice continued.

"I suspect he has joined forces with you, Lilly, in hope of trying to find me again."

The priestess stiffened at the mention of her name.

"What…what are you going to do with me?" she asked, her voice unsteady.

"I am not going to harm you if that's your concern," Zharradan answered "I have given my men strict orders to do the same. I intend to return you to that elf and that thief.

"However I want you to do something for me: I want you to send a message to Dimitri. Tell him to give it up. I want nothing more than to be left alone and to serve my master in peace. I do not need some psychotic Kislevite thug constantly snapping at my heels."

"You really think he would heed to such demands?" Lilly replied.

"Well then," the voice went on, in a more triumphant tone "If he tries anything, I will crush him with my own two hands. He has no idea of my power and, if he values his life, he would do well to keep it that way."

The man then got his feet – yet his features still remained in shadow.

"You're a fool," the priestess growled, "I've seen Dimitri fight. He's not one to give up so easily."

"So you don't think I'm being serious then?" Zharradan said. "Then consider this:

"You should be grateful I'm being lenient: if I was following one of the other Ruinous Powers, you would be dead by now"

Lilly could feel her blood run cold as the man turned for the door.

….Ruinous Powers…..?

* * *

"What the hell is this?" Jarek demanded.

The three warriors peered into the next room: Illuminated by the light of the lantern, it revealed itself to be empty. However, the surface of the floor appeared unnatural: It took on a glossy, gelatinous form.

"Now this is interesting," Torestorm mused. He then knelt down for a closer look.

"It's slime!" he then declared, "This floor's covered by a mass of slime!"

"What do we do?" Jarek asked.

"What we do is that we take caution," the Dreadlord answered, "We tread carefully so we don't slip. Other than that, there isn't much that slime can do to hurt us."

And to prove his point, the elf strode across the room, the slime squelching with each step. Dimitri and Jarek exchanged glances and followed.

The elf watched the two humans make their way across the room – when suddenly, his expression grew into one of alarm.

"Look out!" he shouted.

Slowly, behind the humans, the slime was moving. Dimitri and Jarek turned around just in time to see the slime rising up from the floor into a tall, gelatinous column.

And then without warning, it came crashing down upon the two humans. Acting quickly, the Tomb raider and the bounty hunter leapt out of the way.

"What in Sigmar's name is this?" Jarek shouted.

"How the hell should I know?" Torestorm snapped.

"You're an elf! You've lived much longer than I have!"

The column of slime towered above the three warriors, and then suddenly, without warning, it came crashing down upon Dimitri.

The big Kislevite had no shield, no way to properly defend himself and no chance to get out of the way quickly. But, with a facial expression bearing a refusal to back down, the bounty hunter gripped his axe and swung it at the slime as it struck him.

"Dimitri!" Jarek exclaimed "Look out!"

But the big man didn't hear. Nor did he show any signs of recognition. Instead, he could feel his muscles tighten and his joints growing stiff and rigid. Then, the horror of his comrades, he had been caught in the grip of paralysis.

"What the hell?" Jarek demanded "What happened?"

"It seems this slime has the power to stop people dead in their tracks," the Dreadlord observed.

"So what do we do?"

"Destroy it before it destroys us," Torestorm grinned.

"Makes sense to me!"

And with that, the tomb raider gripped his blade and advanced on the slime.

But the slime was too quick for him: Before Jarek knew what was happening, it had managed to conform from a column into another shape: one that had managed to encircle Jarek completely.

"Oh that's clever," he grinned, "But you will have to do better than-"

But he never got to finish his sentence, let alone swing his blade. The slime acted quickly, striking him on the flesh and, within seconds, affecting him with the same paralysis that ensnared Dimitri.

This left the Dreadlord standing alone.

The slime crawled around his paralysed companions and crept towards him. The elf however looked unperturbed.

"I've lived for many years," he growled "In that time I've slain many men and many creatures well before you. What makes you think I'm going to give way for you?"

And with that, the elf struck his twin blades at the slime. But, even as they struck the disgusting surface, the slime made no sign of reaction whatsoever.

But before Torestorm could realise the lack of effect his attack had, he suddenly found himself being engulfed by the slime and paralysed as well.

And thus, all three warriors were all rendered immobile. The slime circled around them, awaiting the next move. When none came, it then proceeded to strike the helpless warriors.

After some time, Dimitri was first to be broken from the spell. Suddenly, finding himself able to move, the big Kislevite swung his axe in a wide, empty arc.

When he struck nothing he then turned to see where the slime had got to – it was then the bounty hunter saw Torestorm and Jarek paralysed and being attacked by the slime.

The slime seemed unaware of Dimitri's sudden awakening. Yet.

The bounty hunter's brow furrowed – the slime seemed unstoppable against conventional weapons – seems he must try something different.

Thinking quickly, Dimitri pulled, from his pocket, a small salve of oil – the type he used for his own lantern. Unscrewing the cap, he then flung a large part of the contents at the slime. The oil splashed onto the slime – long enough to divert it's attention away from Torestorm and Jarek.

But before the slime could react, Dimitri lit up the oil with the flame from his lantern.

Immediately, the slime burst into flames and it began a make a sound: A bizarre high pitched squealing sound.

As the slime reeled, the paralysis spell ended on Torestorm. The elf, now free to move, blinked in astonishment – first at the burning slime and then at Dimitri holding his lantern.

"Why didn't I think of that before?" the elf exclaimed.

Acting quickly, he pulled forth a cache of oil and flung it at the burning slime. Then, he opened up his lantern to set it alight.

And a second jet of flame burst onto the slime. And the slime squealed with pain even louder. Shaking from the heavy burns, the slime began to move: Slowly, the slime, flames and all, began crawling out of the room.

It headed back out the way the warriors came in and fled out to the open world.

Dimitri watched the slime go then turned to see Torestorm holding a flask out to him.

"Here," the elf said "Healing potion."

The bounty hunter took the potion and took a swig.

"Good thinking there," the Dreadlord said. "You have my thanks."

Ever silent, the bounty hunter nodded his consent. Then he lifted his finger to jab at the still paralysed Jarek.

"Yes I know," the elf said. "Give him time, he'll come back to us.

"But there's no rush."

* * *

Gorbad glared at the two men. They were both confined behind a set of iron bars and wouldn't be going far. The green-skin had no idea why the boss insisted on keeping them: He insisted they appeared to be important and when important people are captured, people will pay a large amount of gold to be released.

Regardless, Gorbad wondered why the boss had even bothered: Despite being dressed finery, the type the only merchants wore, they both looked a sorry sight: They looked dirty, confused, unshaven and bedraggled in appearance.

Not quite what one would expect merchants to look like.

"How are we going to get out of here?" one of the merchants whispered to the other.

"Shut yer mouth!" Gorbad snapped in reply.

The greenskin wondered why they didn't kill these two humies and be done with it.

Across the room, three more Orcs were seated around a table, feeding their faces over a roasted pig.

Gorbad grunted in annoyance – sitting around wasn't the way orcs get things done…

Suddenly, the door flung open. And into the room stepped a tall, burly man clutching a crossbow. Gorbad blinked in surprise – he wasn't expecting to see another stinking humie.

But before Gorbad do anything, the man fired his crossbow. A bolt screamed through the air and slammed into the Orcs' head. In a sickening crash of flesh and bone, the bolt buried itself into the Gorbad's brain, sending the Orc to the floor.

"Look!" one of the merchants said to the other, "Help has arrived!"

The other Orcs got to their feet taken completely by surprise. Growling, they reached for their weapons. But if Dimitri was in any way bothered, he hardly showed it: His fingers raced across his crossbow, loading up another bolt with speed and precision. As the Orcs advanced, the Kislevite raised the crossbow and fired. Within seconds a second Orc fell with a gargling shriek, a bolt protruding from his neck.

And then, Jarek stepped into the room. In his hand he carried a net.

"I've been looking for a chance to use this!" he grinned. And with that, he flung the net over the nearest Orc.

The green-skin snarled as the net encased him. His arms struggled to free himself but the weights attached held him down. And so, there was nothing the Orc could do to stop Jarek moving forward and running him through with his sword.

The remaining Orc then found himself being confronted by Torestorm.

"A Pointy-Earz!" the orc rumbled "I'm gunna break you like a twig!"

"I don't think so," the elf replied.

And with a deft slash of the elf's blades the Orc suddenly found his sword arm severed from the rest of his body.

And then, his second arm was severed.

But before the greenskin could react, the next thing he felt was six feet of elvish steel being driven into his stomach…..

Torestorm paused as the last orc in the room tumbled down dead.

Then he heard a shout:

"Hey over here!"

The elf looked over to the other side of the room: There set in the wall were a set of iron bars. And on the other side of those bars were a pair of bedraggled humans.

Torestorm's gaze hardened and he headed over to the prisoners.

"Who are you?" one of the humans demanded

"I could ask you the same question," the elf replied.

"Never mind that!" the second one snapped, "Get us out of here! We've been here for many days and we need food and water!"

The Dreadlord frowned.

"Well, you're both certainly pushy," he said, "For humans."

"Never mind that!" the first merchant snapped, "Get us out of here you damn elf!"

"Yes," the second one added, "Before more Orcs come!"

And then, as if on cue, a new Orc entered the room. But this was bigger and uglier than the other Orcs in this cave. He had a mouth bearing huge tusks, arms that were as thick as trees and many scars. All of this betrayed his status as the Orc chieftain.

"Wot are youse doin' 'ere?" the chieftain growled.

"Greentusk the Mangler?" the elf grinned.

"Damn right!" the orc rumbled back, "Now youse gunna die!"

It was then Dimitri stepped forward with his axe. Without bating an eyelid, he dealt a might swing. The axe, buried it's way deep into the Orc's flesh.

"Youse gunna pay for that!" Greentusk thundered.

Reaching out, he grabbed Dimitri by the front of his shirt and hurled him to the wall. The big man hit the wall with a great thud. Dimitri staggered in a groggy fashion but managed to keep on his feet.

"Over here!" Jarek shouted.

Greentusk turned his head just in time to see a net come hurtling into his face. It struck his face with such force that it, along with the direction dictated by the net's weights, sent him tumbling onto his back.

"That should hold him!" the Tomb Raider grinned.

"That's nice," the first merchant snapped "Now get us out of here!"

"You know," Torestorm retorted "You should show some manners! You do realise you're dealing with a member of one of the elder races here?"

"Like I care!" the second merchant yelled, "You're our rescuer and you're here to rescue us!"

"Really?" Torestorm growled, "Is that so? Well, if you're going to be like that, I just might change my mind about rescuing the pair of you!"

Suddenly, the chamber was rocked with a huge roar: With a burst of strength Greentusk ripped apart the net that was holding him down. Getting to his feet, he turned to face the intruders.

But Dimitri was already there, standing with axe in hand and an expression that radiated with confrontational intent.

Not that the Orc cared – all humies looked alike and died alike!

The orc dealt a lethal blow to Dimitri but the bounty hunter ducked out of the way.

Torestorm then turned his attention to the Orc.

"This could be trouble," he mused.

He then turned his back on the prisoners and knelt down.

"Hey, hey!" one of the merchants yelled, "What are you doing!"

Torestorm ignored him. Instead he began softly chanting underneath his breath:

"_Koi ya am en, solkin koi ya aa me. Koi ya am en, solkin koi ya aa me_."

The elf kept repeating these same words over and over again. Yet, with each passing word, his speech grew with pace and intensity.

And then, with a shout, the Dreadlord leapt to his feet. Urged onward with an intensity that had never been witnessed before, he charged around the Orc and took him from behind, chanting the same words over and over as he went. Utilising an unnatural burst of strength, the elf used every muscle in his thin frame to grapple the Orc from behind.

Greentusk grunted in disbelief as he was caught from behind and rendered helpless by the frenzied elf.

"Dimitri!" the elf roared "He's all yours!"

The bounty hunter nodded and whipped out his faithful crossbow. Aimed directly at the helpless Orc, he fired. At such short range, he couldn't possibly miss. The bolt slammed into the Greentusk's head, with a crash of broken bone and blood.

Head bowed, the chieftain slumped forward to the ground.

But there wasn't time to rest.

"Look out!" shouted Jarek.

And then, the two prisoners bolted out from their prison. Ignoring Torestorm and Dimitri completely, they charged towards the door and freedom.

"What the hell did you do?" Torestorm snapped at Jarek.

"I let them out!" The tomb raider replied, "They told me they were rich!"

"You fool!" the elf shouted, "They aren't merchants! They are the cultists we've been sent to kill!"

"You serious?"

"Of course! Do you see any other prisoners in this damned place?"

And then he turned and took up pursuit. With elven speed, he caught up to one of the men and clubbed him from behind. The man collapsed into a heap on the floor.

Jarek, meanwhile, shot out his whip after the other. The leather whip screamed through the air and caught the fleeing man on the ankle, wrapping itself around the bone. The man was sent off his feet and hit the floor with a terrific thud.

The man groaned with pain as Dimitri came towards him.

"Now watch," Torestorm said to his companions. Tearing open the merchant's shirt, he revealed the insignia of Cytharai, burnt into the man's flesh.

"The sneaky sons of bitches," Jarek said "To think they nearly escaped!"

"Well, it's just as well we stopped them," the Dreadlord said, being handed manacles from Dimitri. "These two aren't going to go far now."

Just then the other cultist spoke up:

"I'll be seeing you in Hell for this," he growled "The Cytharai will have their re…"

Suddenly, the cultist's speech was cut short – in the form of a fist from Dimitri.

* * *

Another dawn was commencing in Weissbruck.

Walter was wandering through the smoke filled room that was the bar of the Howling Gryphon. All around was the stench of beer, still fresh from the night before. Across the floor were spilled tankards, pieces of broken wood, scattered food and the occasional pool of vomit.

The bartender grinned in satisfaction: Another successful night of drinking.

This isn't the first time he had to deal with a mess of this size but there was plenty of time to clean it up. If experience was anything to go by, he should have this mess cleaned up by midday.

He paused and looked out the window. The streets were empty in the light of dawn. In any case, it looked like another day, serving ale to….

Wait a minute.

Walter caught sight of something. He blinked twice before sprinting to the door and flinging it open.

There, on the doorstep of his tavern, was a woman, dressed in the robes of priestess of Shallya….


	6. Secrets of the Cytharai: Pursuit

**Secrets of the Cytharai**

**VI**

**Pursuit**

"So you would rather live out here?" Torestorm asked.

"Of course" Saraielle replied.

"I know the owner of the local tavern. He could arrange a room for you"

"I appreciate the offer" the bard answered "But I prefer to sleep out under the stars. To be amongst nature.

"Besides" she added "I can only imagine how miserable it must be in that human town."

"Trust me, you don't know want to know"

The two elves chuckled with a humour that only their race could understand.

It was the early morning: Torestorm and Saraielle both faced each other as they both leant against separate trees, as the sight of Weissbruck stretched out before them. Toward the horizon, the sun was beginning its regular ascent into the sky.

"So where will you go from here?" Saraielle suddenly asked.

"I suspect our employer will have one final task for us to perform" Torestorm replied.

"And after that?"

Torestorm didn't reply. Instead, he turned his gaze to Weissbruck.

* * *

Althion looked up at the tavern. It boasted a door made of solid oak, walls made from a combination of stone and mortar, and a wooden roof. Above the door was a sign bearing the legend, the Howling Gryphon.

The elf's gaze hardened with disgust. Such a squalid sight.

He had no idea why he agreed to come out here nor what inspired Torestorm to set up headquarters in a place like this. But, as always, needs must….

The elf made his way up to the door and his face screwed up with disgust – already he could sense the wretched stench of the human brand of ale, built up over decades of use, along with the use of tobacco smoke.

And all this without setting a foot inside.

Oh if they had the sweet wine that only Ulthuan could produce…..

But such a thought was a lost cause. Perhaps the only way one could find such wine here in human hands within the Empire, would be to have an audience with Karl Franz himself…

Taking a deep breath, the mage pushed the door open.

All around, the stench of ale and smoke grew thicker. Rough talk and coarse language, the kind associated with human mercenaries, rang out from all around.

With the entrance of the elf mage, several of the humans feel silent and looked upwards. It certainly was unusual to see someone wearing clean white robes here in the tavern, let alone an elf. The mage could feel the gaze of suspicious eyes upon him, analysing him with the intensity a carnivore reserves for potential food.

Althion scanned his eyes across the tavern – one table in particular caught his eye. It consisted of some humans playing with some dice, no doubt gambling. They seemed unaware of his presence.

One of the gamblers then shot out of his seat. He was a huge man, dressed in chain mail, and boasting a thick brown beard and arms as thick as trees.

"That's another fifty gold crowns!" he yelled in triumph.

In response one of the players, a woman, hid her eyes with her hand and groaned.

Looking beyond the table, the mage's eye then caught sight of a booth: there, in the corner, a tall figure in a dark cloak was sitting, glass in hand.

Now with a destination, Althion moved to the booth. He was going past the gambler's table when the big man suddenly noticed him and got his feet.

"What are you doin' here?' the man rumbled to the mage, his breath reeking of ale.

"Not bothering with you" the mage said sharply "Get out of my way!"

Immediately the tavern fell silent.

"This is a warrior's tavern!" the man boomed "This is no place for mages or elves!"

"I resent that!" came a shout.

Torestorm got to his feet and, withdrew his cloak, revealing a slender body covered with well-used armour and a pair of lethal blades.

And in one gesture, the humans in the tavern found their sense of doubt fall away. All but one.

"Two elves?" the drunk rumbled "What, you both come 'ere to steal our wimmin?"

The Dreadlord said nothing. Instead he advanced to the big man and, in one quick movement, dealt a vicious uppercut to the man's jaw. The blow struck with such speed and such force that the man wobbled on his feet, his expression dazed, and his movements staggering.

But Torestorm wasn't finished. Instead he grabbed the big man by the collar.

"Walter!" he called out.

"Yes milord?" the bartender responded, emerging from the tavern's gloom.

"Care to deal with this vermin?"

"Gladly."

"Catch!"

And with that, Torestorm hurled the dazed man in the bartender's direction. Walter caught the man and, with an evil grin, bustled him away. The other patrons watched him and then turned their attention away from the two elves.

"Welcome Althion" Torestorm grinned "Glad you could make it"

"The pleasure is all mine" the mage replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

The Dreadlord then motioned towards the booth. Being confronted with a roughly constructed seat, Althion hesitated but eventually sat down.

"I have heard reports of your exploits" he said "You have done well. You have done me a considerable favour with the elimination of the Moonshadow Carnival."

"So what now?" the Dreadlord asked "If the cult all completely destroyed, then you will have no further use for me"

"True" Althion said "But there is one last task I need to ask of you. The sorcerer you apprehended? He has escaped."

"What?" the Dreadlord replied flatly.

"He was liberated by a mage of Chaos. My intelligence informs me this was a man named Zharradan. These men have both fled to a cavern. I know where they can be both found, I just need you to eliminate them both, for good."

"And then what?" Torestorm replied.

"With no leaders, the cult will be gone for good and without any hope of being resurrected" Althion replied "And your task will be complete."

A brief silence followed, before the Dreadlord nodded.

"One question" he then said "You say you owe me a tremendous debt"

"That is correct." Althion replied.

"So what does that mean?"

"It means that I will aid you, without question, should you find yourself in need of assistance"

"And when will that be?"

The mage grinned a wolfish grin

"You'll know Dreadlord, you'll know"

Torestorm opened his mouth to speak – when suddenly Walter hurried over to the table.

"Milord!" he said "Your friend, the priestess.

"She is awake…."

* * *

Lilly sat on the bed, her hands folded before her and her facial expression heavy with the nature of her ordeal.

In the room stood her comrades Torestorm, Dimitri and Jarek. The elf and the Tomb raider seemed genuinely concerned for their comrade. The bounty hunter however appeared aloof. Also present were Walter and Althion.

Jarek knelt down before the priestess.

"What happened to you?" he asked gently "We woke up yesterday to find you gone"

"…I…I…" the priestess stammered, her speech leaden with the difficulty of forming words.

"Is anyone responsible for this?" Jarek asked.

"…I…I…"

"Forget it" Torestorm said "She must still be in a state of shock"

"…No" Lilly said softly.

All eyes then turned to her.

"No…. I…am all right" she went on, her speech slowly finding a sense of flow.

"What happened to you?" Jarek asked for a second time.

"I…was abducted" Lilly answered "By….. a cult"

"A cult?" Torestorm echoed.

Jarek and Walter exchanged glances. Dimitri suddenly began to show an interest. Even Althion raised an eyebrow.

Torestorm turned to the mage

"I thought you said the Moonshadow Carnival would never recover from their recent losses!"

"….I don't think… it was them" Lilly said.

"Well, what did they want?" the tomb raider asked urgently.

"…They…didn't harm me" the priestess said "…They…. let me go…"

"What?" Althion exclaimed "That's preposterous! What kind of cult would do that?"

"Heard of any word of cults operating in this town?" he then asked, turning to Walter.

"Can't say that I have" the bartender said "I see a lot of people come and go in my tavern but if I'd heard something out of place I would've told someone"

"I doubt any cultist would be foolish enough to discuss their affiliation in public" Althion noted.

"…..That's…not all" Lilly said "…I ….think they just want to be left alone"

"That's absurd!" Torestorm burst out "Does this cult seriously think they can escape the laws that govern the Empire? They would be hunted down and killed!"

"I have fought the forces of Chaos before" Althion chimed in "But I've never heard anything like this"

"Can you remember where you were taken?" the elf then asked Lilly.

"…I…know where I was attacked" the priestess started "but where I was taken…."

"Yes?"

"….I… don't know…."

"What do you mean don't know?" Torestorm demanded.

"…I….was knocked out" Lilly explained "When I woke up, I was in a room somewhere. And then, I was knocked out a second time and woke up …here"

"So where you went" Walter added "Could've been anywhere."

A silence descended upon the group.

"So what do we do now?' Jarek asked.

"What can we do?" Althion said "We will need to notify the authorities"

"Agreed" Torestorm said "I doubt the people of Weissbruck would appreciate having a cult in their midst."

"Is that wise?" the tomb raider protested

"What do you mean?"

"If we do notify the watch" Jarek said "They will hunt them down. The town watch will get paranoid and the cult will know we have betrayed them.

"And they will come after us"

"I make no deals with the forces of Chaos" Althion said, his voice as cold as steel. And with that he turned and headed out the door.

The Reavers then all exchanged looks.

"…..There was… something else" Lilly then said "….They wanted to be left alone for a reason"

"Yes?" Torestorm said "And what was this reason?"

The priestess blinked at the elf and the tomb raider. Then her eye fell on the bounty hunter. Dimitri was leaning against the wall, his axe in one hand and his finger running gently across the blade.

"…They….didn't say…."

* * *

The rest of the day passed quickly. Lilly rested in her bed, Jarek by her side keeping vigilant watch.

Meanwhile, Torestorm went to the watch. He managed to get in touch with the captain, a man who introduced himself as Heydrich Vogel, and informed them of the cult's presence. From that point on, immediate action was taken: Plans were drawn up, the soldiers of Weissbruck were given new orders and street patrols began to increase in number. Even Dimitri suddenly found his people-tracking skills in demand.

Torestorm was impressed by the speed of how everything went. Vogel informed him that if a cult truly did exist, then it needs to be located and eliminated as quickly as possible before any more people get pulled into it – thus preventing the forces of Chaos from starting to show an interest in Weissbruck.

"It's for the people's own safety!" the captain assured the elf.

But as far as Torestorm was concerned, increasing martial law seemed an open invitation to disaster…

As dusk descended, the Dreadlord once again found himself sitting in his booth at the Howling Gryphon. Unusually, he was the only visitor to the tavern: It was quiet for the time being but it wouldn't be long before the evening crowd comes in for a hard night's drinking.

Walter came over with a goblet in hand.

"Here' the bartender offered "Like some wine?"

"Thank you" the Dreadlord said. He took the goblet in hand and had a sip.

"From my own stash" Walter grinned "I only open it for special occasions"

"I'm honoured" Torestorm said "What's the occasion? I assume it's not the fresh burst of paranoia in this town"

"Of course not" the bartender chuckled "It's just to your good health"

"You have my thanks" the elf said before taking another sip.

Immediately the air was split with the sound of a door crashing open and a gruff, but somehow familiar, voice.

"You drink that human swill? Drink some Bugmans and you'll find nothing else comes close!"

Torestorm looked up and his eyes widened – there standing in the doorway, looking very battered but far from dead, was Gognak.

"Gognak!" the elf spluttered "You're alive!"

"Damn right I am" the dwarf said, stomping over to the booth.

Walter, however, frowned

"'Human swill?'" he murmured.

"So what have you been doing?" the dwarf inquired "It's been months since I last saw you."

It didn't take him long to find out.

"The cult has been crushed eh?" the dwarf said "So what's with those patrols outside?"

"It would appear that whereas the Moonshadow Carnival has fallen" Torestorm replied "Another has risen in its place"

Upon hearing this, Gognak's face hardened.

"Another cult?" he said slowly "I wonder if…"

"If what?"

"I was attacked by a cult on my return journey from Karaz-a-Karak"

"You don't suppose that could be the same one….?" The Dreadlord theorised.

A silence followed before the dwarf chuckled to himself.

"Could be" he said "But I'm not concerned. Right now, I'm tired after a long journey and I want some decent ale.

"Bartender!" Gognak said to Walter "Give me your finest!"

The bartender blinked before heading to the bar.

"'Human swill?'" he murmured.

* * *

It was before dawn in Weissbruck. Slowly, light was beginning to creep into the township, bathing everything within a soft grey. All was silent and the streets, normally full of people during the day, were empty.

Empty except for three figures outside the Howling Gryphon.

"Glad you decided to join us" Torestorm grinned.

"Feeling's mutual elf" Gognak replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Are you sure you're fit to accompany us?" the Dreadlord asked "You've had barely enough time to rest"

"I'm a Dwarf!" came the snapped reply "And we're made to last!"

"As you wish"

"Besides, I've been through worse than this"

"I can imagine" the elf said dryly.

"I see he's still with us" the dwarf muttered, jerking a thumb in Dimitri's direction "Care to explain why?"

The Kislevite cast a glaring eye in the dwarf's direction but said nothing.

"His skills are as good as any, bounty hunter or not" Torestorm replied.

"I still don't trust him"

"You're not the trusting type are you?"

"Trust can be betrayed" the dwarf said sternly "You of all people should know that"

"Of course, how can I forget?' the elf said, his voice sarcastic.

The dwarf opened his mouth, no doubt with the intention of delivering more insults – but he was interrupted by the sound of the door opening.

And then Jarek stepped out of the tavern. Alongside the Tomb Raider came Lilly, looking all prepared for combat but betrayed by a weary expression.

Gognak blinked.

"What on earth….?"

Jarek looked up at Torestorm, with a face of confidence.

"We're ready when you are"

"Are you serious?" the elf said, his face one of disbelief.

"What are you talking about?"

"The priestess is in a state of shock - she is in no state to..."

Torestorm never got to complete his sentence – for the priestess looked up and fixed the elf with a determined gaze. A determination, the likes of which that the elf had never seen for centuries.

"I heard" she said in slow, measured tones "that the bastard who abducted me is waiting for us. If he is, then I for one want see him pay for his crimes"

All eyes then turned to the Dreadlord to see his response.

The silence that followed was deafening.

The elf's browed furrowed – driven by sheer determination alone.

"Well then" he said finally "I suggest we get moving"

The others nodded.

Torestorm then turned and headed for the gates. Dimitri followed close behind with the others at a slower pace: Gognak marched with movement's leaden with fatigue, and Lilly kept leaning on Jarek for support.

The elf turned to the bounty hunter.

"We're under full strength" he observed "This is going to be fun."

Dimitri said nothing.

* * *

Following a map provided by Althion, the Reavers made their way to a mountain. The journey wasn't easy as the priestess was far from perfect mental health - despite being physically able, her mind seemed unable to overcome the sense of shock from her abduction. Yet, she still carried on, being driven by determination alone.

Eventually, the five mercenaries arrived at their destination – A weather-beaten door nestled deep in a rocky mountain slope. Additionally, the door was half-submerged in a body of water: A small mountain pond rested between the mercenaries and the door.

"Interesting" Torestorm mused.

"Is this the right place?" Jarek asked "I can't see how anyone could get in there!"

"We'll sound find out" the elf said, snapping his fingers "Gognak? Dimitri? Get that door open!"

The bounty hunter and the dwarf nodded and waded into the water to work on the door. With muscles pulsating, the combined strength of the two warriors pushed the door open. It was an incredible effort with the pressure of the water working against them. Eventually, the door was free, only for the water to come pouring into the darkness that lay beyond.

Peering into the darkness beyond the door, the Reavers could see a blackened corridor that disappeared into the darkness. However, as the warrior's eyes adjusted to the dark, they could see a mass of rock and slime at the end blocking the corridor. There was a small opening at the top of the rocks that appeared big enough to be squeezed through.

"Eeergh!" Lilly exclaimed in disgust "What on earth is this?"

"An indication someone doesn't want to be followed I would think" the elf said.

"Forget it!" the priestess said sharply "I'm not climbing over that!"

"What?" Gognak retorted "The man you seek could be on the other side for all you know!"

"Well then!" Lilly shot back "You should go over there and kill him for me!"

"What?" the dwarf snapped "I'm not doing the dirty work of a manling!"

"Why? I figured you'll be at home in an underground passage!"

"She's certainly become active now, eh?" Jarek grinned at Torestorm.

But the Dreadlord was not in the mood for nonsense.

"Lilly, get up there now!" he said sternly "If you have the strength to yell and argue, you have the strength to climb!"

"But…."

"NOW!" the elf growled, his eyes growing angry.

"Fine!" Lilly said "I'll go first!"

And so, she placed her hands in the slime, in order to find a foothold. Immediately, her face screwed up with disgust. But, not a word escaped her lips as she proceeded to climb up the rocks.

Obviously traversing slime was more agreeable than arguing with Torestorm.

She had gone a little way up before her fingers found something loose. At first she thought it a loose rock but it seemed too warm to be one – not to mention circular. Curiosity drove her to grip this object and pull it out of the slime.

"I've found something!" she exclaimed.

"Really?" Jarek replied "What is it?"

Lilly pulled her discovery into view.

And there, in the light of the lantern and dripping with slime, the object turned out to a black sphere with small spikes protruding all across its surface. A rune, of Dwarvish origin, was proudly displayed on the side.

"That's a firebomb that is!" Gognak declared "It's a Dwarven explosive"

Satisfied with this assessment, the priestess carried on with her climb: Eventually, she headed through the opening to the other side.

"Can you see anything?" Jarek asked.

"This place is empty" came the reply

Torestorm exchanged looks with Dimitri, Jarek and Gognak before climbing up the rock-pile himself

"So far so good…" he murmured.

* * *

Eventually, each of the warriors found themselves on the other side on the rock pile. It revealed itself to be a passageway ending at a door. On both sides of the door was a rope each.

"So what do we do?" Jarek asked.

"How much do you want to bet that one of those ropes opens that door?" Gognak theorised.

"Seems a bit too obvious to me" Lilly said.

"Want to try pulling one of those ropes?" Torestorm suggested.

"Oh no" the tomb raider said "I'm not game for that"

"Why?" Gognak said "I thought Tomb Raiders were the type that did this sort of thing"

"True" Jarek replied "But a Tomb Raider knows a potential trap when he sees one"

"We don't have time to argue" the elf said, his voice exasperated.

"Well, if you're keen, you do it yourself!"

"Very well then"

The elf promptly stepped forward and pulled one of the ropes. He regretted this act with seconds as the floor underneath gave way completely. And in an instant, the elf found himself plunging into a shaft of water.

"Aarrrrrgh!" the elf shouted as he crashed into the water, the weight of his armour pulling him down.

"Traps" Jarek said "Nasty things they are!"

"That's nice to hear" the elf shouted from down below, as he splashed his arms to try and stay afloat "Now how about getting me out of here?"

"You heard him" Jarek sighed. Next to him, Dimitri and Lilly nodded

Immediately, the three humans all worked together to haul the elf out of the water pit.

Gognak chuckled to himself and pulled on the second rope. Immediately, the door swung open.

"And again it takes a dwarf to correct the mistakes of an elf" he muttered to himself.

* * *

Beyond the door, the passageway continued on – at least to another door. But the route to this new door was cut off in the form of a giant pit before it. The pit stretched from wall to wall, boasted sharpened stakes at the bottom and yielded no way whatsoever around it. Long planks of wood were strewn across the floor.

"Wonder what happened here?" Lilly pondered, nodding to the pieces of wood.

"Someone tried to build a bridge but gave up?" Jarek grinned.

"So how do we get across then?" Gognak demanded, his eyes on the pit.

"Like this" Torestorm said with a grin. And with that, he charged forward and into the air. With movements of grace that only elves could accomplish, he flipped over the pit and landed on the other side.

"Show off" Gognak muttered.

"Well that looks simple enough" Jarek grinned and he jumped into the air.

And then it happened: His leap fell too short. The Tomb Raider's feet failed to find the opposing ledge and, upon remembering there was nothing but sharpened stakes down below, panic gripped Jarek.

"Jarek!" Lilly shrieked.

But the Tomb Raider wasn't done yet: Thinking fast, his hands shot out and gripped the ledge, thus saving him from certain doom.

Lilly blinked before turning around and picking up one of the planks. Using a rope, she began lashing them together.

"What are you doing?" Gognak asked.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Lilly snapped "I'm building a bridge!"

"With those planks?" the dwarf retorted "Pah! You don't need that wood! You need Dwarvish engineering! Best in the world!"

"I don't see you helping!" the priestess snapped.

Torestorm watched this scene with amusement. Then his eye turned to Jarek.

"Are you all right?" the elf asked "Here let me help you up"

"No need!" the tomb raider grinned "This isn't the first time this has happened"

The elf's brow furrowed. Those words seemed presumptuous indeed but they were spoken with a confidence that dispelled any sense of doubt.

Gritting his teeth, Jarek hauled himself up from the edge of the pit. Slowly but surely, he gripped his way to freedom, pulling his body along to solid ground.

Once there, he jumped to his feet and grinned at the Dreadlord.

"See?" he proclaimed triumphantly "Told you I've done it before"

But then, without warning, the door in front of the two warriors flung open.

In an instant, Jarek and Torestorm found themselves confronted by a trio of furry faces, each containing a pair of angry red eyes.

"Skaven!" Gognak bellowed from the other side of the pit "Jarek! Get down!"

The Tomb raider flicked his head to see the dwarf draw forth a Dwarven handgun. Deciding that complying with the Dwarf's wishes was a good idea, he did so.

With a click and an explosion, the dwarf took aim with hot lead at the first Skaven as he came charging through the door. The ratman was struck by the bullet and was sent downwards, collapsing into a bloodied heap.

Jarek grinned with eagerness and drew forth his whip. He flicked it at the second Skaven burst through the door. The whip struck the ratman and coiled around his wrist. The Skaven squeaked in surprise – before the tomb raider yanked on the whip. And thus there was little the Skaven could do from being directed to the pit and sent plunging onto the spikes below.

The remaining Skaven charged for Torestorm. The elf acted quickly: as the ratman charged the elf stepped to the side. The Skaven blinked in confusion – before having the back of his skull being slammed by the hilt of the elf's sword.

But the ratman didn't have time to recover: Next thing he knew, he felt the elf's boot came striking out from behind and sending him flying - and into the pit.

Jarek dusted off his hands and grinned at the Dreadlord.

"I thought elves fought with more grace than that" he noted.

"Battle is where you're fighting for your life" Torestorm said bluntly "So why would you care about how you fight?"

In an instant Jarek's smile vanished.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the pit, the priestess' handiwork was complete: There, before her, was a crude bridge made from the planks and rope.

"What do you think?" she said proudly

"Are you for real?" Gognak spluttered "It doesn't look in any way stable!"

Dimitri also appeared unimpressed.

"It's only for getting across this pit" Lilly assured her companions "As long as it holds its fine by me"

Then, to prove her point, she shoved her construction across the pit, to bridge it completely. And then, she stepped upon it and, with a face lined with determination, she slowly her made her way across the bridge, each step slow and purposeful.

The bridge creaked underneath her feet but it still held - even when the priestess made it to the other side.

She turned and grinned in triumph at Dimitri and Gognak who exchanged glances.

"You first?" the dwarf said.

Shrugging the bounty hunter stepped out first. But, being of a heavier build, the bridge creaked heavily.

"That doesn't sound too good" Jarek said

"Shut it!" Lilly shot back "It'll hold!"

"Stay on the alert" Torestorm "In case some…."

But the elf never got to finish his sentence – as something did happen: Halfway across the bridge, it collapsed. The Kislevite cried out in alarm – But then suddenly, a hand shot out and grabbed the bounty hunter by the wrist.

"Hang on!" Jarek yelled "I gotcha!"

Meanwhile, back on the other side, Gognak sighed.

"Knew it wouldn't hold" he muttered.

He then paused and looked down at the stake-filled pit before him.

"Might as well do this the old-fashioned why then"

And then, he lowered himself down into the pit.

"I'm too old for this…." He grumbled softly

* * *

The fimir glared at the intruders with a single glowing eye. With the eye blazing a red more ferocious than the scales of a dragon, the beast gripped a large axe and thundered towards the dwarf and the elf.

"Now this is more like it!" Gognak grinned, gripping his axe with eager anticipation.

"Skaven not good enough for you?" the Dreadlord asked.

"Damn right" came the reply "At least this one won't run away!"

And with that, he charged into battle. The fimir responded by throwing a mighty fist in the dwarf's direction but the dwarf acted quickly: he ducked out of the way and the fist smashed into a wall. Gognak responded to this by driving his axe upwards and deep into the beast's stomach.

The Dreadlord meanwhile, charged forward, his twin swords at the ready, and proceeded to drive it in the direction of the Fimir's eye. But the monster was ready for him: With its other hand, the fimir swung its axe around in a wide arc. But the Dreadlord didn't see it coming: Torestorm was struck on the side of his head. Such was the force of the blow that he was sent flying into the wall of the passageway.

The elf groaned as an unbelievable pain cruised through his body.

The fimir emitted a growling noise and kneeled down before the prostrate Dreadlord.

But in doing so, it made a fatal error:

It placed itself within the easy reach of Gognak and his axe.

With a hefty swing, the dwarf drove his axe deep into the fimir's head. The blade cleaved its way through flesh and bone, never breaking it's path once. The axe kept going until it completely severed the fimir's head from the rest of the body.

The body tumbled to the floor as the head fell to the floor.

Torestorm blinked at the lifeless corpse before him and then the dwarf.

"Thanks" he said softly

"Any excuse to slay a green-skin is good enough for me" Gognak said with an evil grin.

"Gognak" the elf "This beast is too big to be an Orc or a goblin"

"It has green skin!" the dwarf said sharply "That's good enough for me!"

* * *

The cavern presented itself as an enormous cavity in the rock. Stalagmites and various other rocks littered the floors all the way to the cavern's rocky walls. Dark shadows were interlaced everywhere, governed from up above by a ceiling that disappeared into darkness.

It was also home to an enormous troll.

It lay in the middle of the floor in a massive heap.

"Is it alive? Lilly asked.

"What say I find out by burying my axe in it?" Gognak growled.

But the answer to the priestess' questions came with movement. The troll began moving, arms shifting to hoist it up off the ground. The troll must've sensed the five intruders - for it struggled to its feet and to its full height, towering over the mercenaries.

The troll was a hideous sight with mammoth tusks for teeth, ragged hair, a hideous face and evil eyes radiating with murderous intent. Its body was made up of long arms that looked thin but powerful. It had clawed feet, a bloated stomach and fearsome disposition.

"That's the ugliest thing I've ever seen" Jarek gasped.

"What?" Gognak joked "Since looking in the mirror this morning?"

The troll glared at the intruders and then, without warning, it began striding quickly towards them.

"So how do we fight this thing?" Lilly said desperately.

"It's a monster" the dwarf grinned "It can bleed like any other"

And with that, he charged axe at the ready. Torestorm, Lilly and Jarek all exchanged glances before following Gognak into the fray. Dimitri meanwhile readied his faithful crossbow and took aim.

Moving quickly, the mercenaries circled around the troll and closed in on it. The first blows from the mercenaries blades struck the troll's skin – but the beast kept on coming, it's thick skin keeping it safe from all but the minor blows. Not even Dimitri's quarrels could slow the troll down.

"Ever fought one of these things before?" Jarek yelled to Torestorm.

"Can't say that I have" the elf shouted back.

"Well if you have any ideas I'm all for them!"

"Well I've heard stories" the Dreadlord warned "Apparently trolls can regenerate wounds and attack with vomit!"

"Vomit?" Jarek scoffed "Are you serious?"

"A troll like this can't be that hard to kill" Gognak said "If those of the Slayer cult can bring one down then anyone can!"

Suddenly, the troll emitted a deep growl. Looking about, its eyes fell on Torestorm and Lilly. Grinning an evil grin, the troll opened its mouth.

And then, without warning, a disgusting mass burst from the troll's mouth! Much to their horror, and disgust, the priestess and the elf found themselves swamped by a combination of saliva, slime, body parts, and contents of the troll's stomach.

"Aaarrghh!" the priestess spluttered "What on earth?"

The elf said nothing, as his expression looked repulsed.

Jarek merely blinked.

"Now I believe it" he murmured.

Lilly choked and gagged and staggered backwards. But somehow, she managed to retain her composure. She then fixed the troll with an evil glare.

"You'll pay for that…" she growled, wiping a slop of muck from her forehead.

Reaching for her belt, she pulled out the firebomb she discovered earlier. It was covered in the troll's vomit but it still appeared usable.

Utilising the light of her lantern, she lit the fuse. Amazingly, the slime didn't affect the fuse at all and it kept burning with intensity.

"Hey ugly!" Lilly shouted at the troll "Take this!"

And with that, she threw the bomb with all her might. The bomb sailed through the air and it struck the troll on the flesh. However, the bomb nestled its way onto the troll's flesh, the spikes holding a precarious position in the troll's scales.

"What the?" Lilly said "That wasn't supposed to happen!"

"What was?" Jarek demanded.

"It supposed to take him down for good!"

"Really?" Gognak said "Hold that thought"

And with that, he charged for the troll. As the beast was too focused on Torestorm and Lilly, it didn't notice the dwarf approach from behind. With gritted teeth, the dwarf leapt onto the troll's back gripped it's scales tightly in his hands.

The troll, suddenly aware of something on its back, roared and tried to shake off the intruder but the dwarf's grip held tight. With slowed measures movements, Gognak climbed up the troll to retrieve the firebomb.

Ripping the bomb from its imprisoning scales, the dwarf continued climbing up on the troll's back.

"What are you doing?" Lilly yelled "Get out of there!"

"Shut up!" Gognak thundered back.

Then, with an incredible burst of strength, the dwarf thrust his hand forward and grabbed the upper half of the troll's mouth. He then jerked it back, and thrust the bomb deep into the troll's open mouth.

"Try regenerating this!" he shouted

It was then the bomb went off. The troll's head exploded, sending pieces of flesh and bone in all directions. Gognak was thrown from the explosion and came crashing down on his back.

Now without a head, the troll's body staggered before it came tumbling down onto the floor.

"Well that's one way of killing a troll" Jarek noted.

Lilly came hurrying over to where the dwarf lay.

"Gognak!" she yelled "Are you all right?"

The dwarf's eyes slowly shifted opened and small smile emerged on his lips.

"I told you" Gognak grinned "Dwarves are made to last"

* * *

And once again, Althion found himself in the Howling Gryphon.

Much to his disgust.

And once again, he was confronted by the five mercenaries in his employment – only this time, they were bedraggled, their clothes dirty with slime and smelling dreadful.

Much to his disgust.

"It is good to see you again" the mage said slowly "Particularly you Gognak. Glad to see you back and in good health"

The dwarf nodded his consent but said nothing.

"And of your mission?" Althion went on, showing no effort to hide his disgust.

"We followed your map all the way to a cave system" Torestorm explained "From there, we were led to a cavern inhabited by a troll. We defeated it and, after a quick search of the cavern we came across this"

And with that, he lifted up a small wooden box. The mage took the box, opened it and was immediately confronted with the sight of a severed hand.

Strangely, Althion didn't bat an eyelid.

"Seems the cult leader was eaten up by the troll" he mused.

"And what of Zharradan?"

Upon hearing this, Dimitri suddenly seemed interested.

"No trace of him whatsoever" Torestorm said "We searched the cavern but couldn't any other trace of anyone else"

Dimitri fixed the two elves with a hardened glare, but he said nothing.

"Well" Althion said "The Moonshadow Carnival is crushed. And thus, our alliance is over.

"I thank you all for your efforts and wish you all the best for the future."

And with that, he turned and headed for the door.

"Wait!" Lilly called "What do you mean our alliance is over?"

Althion turned and flicked his head over his shoulder.

"Exactly what I said" he said "The job I have paid you for is complete"

"So what do we do now?" Jarek asked.

"That's for you all to decide. Although" the mage said "You could all do me, and the other patrons of this tavern, a favour and take a bath!

"You all smell terrible!"


	7. Bitter and Twisted: Hunter's Eye

**Bitter and Twisted**

**I**

**Hunters' Eye**

It was morning.

And once again, the Dreadlord found himself beyond the safety of the walls of Weissbruck.

"So the cult is defeated?" Saraielle asked.

Torestorm nodded.

"So what would that mean?"

"My task for the Starlight Guardians is complete"

"So that would make you one of them?"

"Correct" the Dreadlord replied.

"Can't say I've heard of them" the bard replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I thought they were a myth myself"

"Myths" Saraielle smiled "The land is full of them"

Torestorm said nothing.

"So what would this mean for you?" the bard then asked "The guardians now know that you exist.

"And they know that you know of them."

"So?"

"Doesn't that mean they have ownership over you?"

"What do you mean?" The Dreadlord asked.

"Would this mean that they will demand that you do things for them?" Saraielle said "And you will have to do it whether you like it or not?"

Torestorm shrugged

"As the forces of evil persist I will battle them" he said "Any reason is as good as the next."

Saraielle looked at the Dreadlord in bewilderment.

Torestorm however looked to the sunrise.

* * *

Lady Lily gazed into the goblet before her. The wine it contained reflected a solemn face.

She sat alone in a booth in the Howling Gryphon, ignored by the other patrons in the tavern. Regardless, it gave her time to think about recent events.

The Moonshadow Carnival had been completely eradicated. The cultists had scattered and the leaders were dead, thus leaving the cult unable to rise again. Thus, the alliance with their leader Althion had effectively concluded.

But this development presented a new problem: What does she do now?

She could return to her role as priestess of healing the wounded but, truth be told, she had enjoyed playing the role of a mercenary: She got to see the world and it certainly yielded a more exciting life than that of being cooped up in a temple.

If anything, living a mercenary life presented an ideal opportunity to serve Shallya in healing the wounded, providing faith and hope to the populace and defending the weak against the forces of Chaos.

It was a dangerous prospect but even the largest armies of the Empire still require the services of a healer.

Really there was no contest: She would continue into the field of battle assisting the wounded in Shallya's name to thwart the forces of the Ruinous Powers.

If the mercenary role has been an enjoyable one then why should she give it up?

The only question was would she be able to convince her comrades to do the same….

Jarek? He seemed eager for adventure so he would take little convincing. Dimitri? It wasn't easy to determine what he was thinking but, like all bounty hunters, all he needed was to be pointed in the right direction. The only real problems were Torestorm and Gognak: Being with the Starlight Guardians, it was possible that they would follow whatever future plans Althion may have for them.

If only she had a reason to keep them all together…

The priestess looked out the window and up towards the sky.

"What do I do now, Shallya?" she murmured.

"Excuse me" said a voice.

The priestess flicked her head around to be confronted by a woman. She had long jet black hair and was dressed in a leather jerkin and trousers, suited to that of a traveller.

"I heard there were some mercenaries in this tavern" said the woman "Calling themselves the Dragonfire Reavers."

Lilly blinked.

"Yes…Yes!" she said "I am with the Dragonfire Reavers. I am Lilly. How can I help?"

"My name is Claudia" the woman replied "I am after mercenaries for a task. It's nothing grand but I am willing to pay."

"What does this task involve?"

The woman named Claudia placed a package before the priestess. It was wrapped in brown paper and had several silver pieces resting on top.

"I want this package delivered to Heinrich the blacksmith. I hope the silver is sufficient enough payment for your services."

"I think it will" Lily smiled – maybe this mercenary business could be something of a calling.

"So, you're a priestess of Shallya?" Claudia then said, noting Lilly's robes "Heard the news?"

"What news?"

"Someone broke into the temple of Shallya last night" the woman replied "And they stole an artefact from it."

"By Shallya!" Lilly exclaimed "Do they know who did it?"

"Some believe that the culprits are a bunch of elven bandits."

"Elven bandits?"

"There's a group calling themselves the Bitterwind Rose" Claudia replied "They live in Reikwald forest, south from here. I hear they've been troubling some of the populace and as such, a bounty has been placed on their heads.

"I guess with this mishap, the bounty is set to increase…."

A silence hung between the women.

"Anyway" Claudia said suddenly "Must be going now, I have an appointment to keep. Nice meeting you Lilly."

And with that she turned and walked away.

Lilly then returned her gaze to outside the window.

"Thank you…" she whispered.

* * *

Elsewhere, Dimitri was making his way through the busy streets of Weissbruck. With each step he took, he could feel many eyes watching him: some out of fear, some out of contempt and some out of suspicion.

By now, the reputation of the Dragonfire Reavers had grown in Weissbruck where they were each recognised as mercenaries for hire and as heroes of the town (or at least what some of the people in the town would like to believe).

There was just one problem: One of them was a dreaded bounty hunter.

Through his efforts with the other Reavers, Dimitri's profile had risen significantly – it also helped to keep the criminals in check. However, as is the role of a bounty hunter, his job was an ugly one and in his wake comes despair, pain and the idea of disturbing the peace.

Seems that not all heroes wear silver…

Suddenly, the bounty hunter's ears caught the sound of shouting.

He flicked his head around to see a bull charging down the street. People fled to the either sides of the streets to get out of the way. All around were shouts of alarm and confusion.

All but the Kislevite. He stood his ground, right in the path of the runaway.

Dimitri could hear people around him shouting at him but he ignored them.

He won't run: After all, what is a bull to the constant forces of Chaos that continually besiege his homeland….?

The bull thundered towards the lone man. But Dimitri stood his ground and glared at the beast. He glared with eyes that had seen many terrors, killed many men, slain many daemons in many forms and would not give way to anything. He fixed the bull with a glare that would have done mighty Ursun himself proud and with an intensity that would make an Ogre Tyrant turn and run.

And then it happened.

Struck by the glare, the bull blinked. Immediately, it began skidding to a stop.

The crowd gaped in disbelief as the bull gradually came to a standstill, mere inches from the bounty hunter, snorting and pawing at the cobblestones.

Immediately, a cheer rose up amongst the people, many of them applauding the Kislevite.

Dimitri paused before waving gently to the crowd.

Seems that not all heroes wear silver…

* * *

Lilly knocked on the door.

"Come in!" came a deep voice from the other side.

The priestess opened the door and was confronted with the smell of hot coals and bashed metal. She blinked as her eyes picked up a furnace, an anvil and a pile of straw in the corner. Also on the other side of the room, a horse was patiently waiting.

"Can I help you?" said a voice.

Heinrich, blacksmith of Weissbruck, then stepped into view.

"Hello there" the priestess greeted.

"I was asked to deliver a package for you" she then said presenting it before the big man.

"Aha!" Heinrich said "Yes, I've been expecting this."

He took the package and blinked.

"Hey, I know you" he said "You're part of the mercenary band with Torestorm aren't you?"

"You know him?" Lilly asked, surprised to hear the elf's name.

"Of course!" Heinrich grinned "He's my apprentice!"

"Oh my" the priestess said "I had no idea…."

"Would you like to see some of his work?"

"You'd show me?" Lilly said "I'd love to!"

And so, as the afternoon went on, Lilly stayed at Heinrich's shop, talking to the blacksmith. Heinrich seemed appreciative of the company and was happy to show to the priestess the technique that goes into forging a blade. The blacksmith also showed some of the works Torestorm was working on, showing great respect for an elvish craftsmanship, far beyond that of his own.

Eventually, Lilly asked him about the elven bandits she had been told about earlier.

"The Bitterwind Rose?" the blacksmith answered "Yeah, I've heard of them."

"What do you know?"

"They set up camp in the Reikwald forest some months ago." Heinrich explained "Travellers heading from the south tell of being attacked from unseen archers and ambushes that go quicker than the eye can see."

"I heard they broke into the Temple of Shallya last night." Lilly said.

"That's the talk about town" the blacksmith replied "But that's not the only thing I've heard."

"Oh?"

"I heard that the Dwarves placed a bounty of their own on the bandit's heads. They claim the elves stole an artefact from them"

"Interesting….." the priestess mused.

* * *

Once again, Dimitri made his way through the busy streets of Weissbruck, his battle-hardened eyes on the constant lookout for trouble.

He had no idea why he was going out like this – his reputation alone was enough to scare some criminals out of the town. And it wasn't like the townsfolk were in any way going to provide any challenge. They were far too busy keeping him, out of fear, at an arm's length.

And that's just the way, with bounty hunters, it should be.

In the meantime, Dimitri needed something to do – maybe he should go pay the watch house a visit and see if they have any bounties for him to track down…..

Just then, the Kislevite caught sight of something new: There, in front of a building, a crowd was gathering. Dimitri recognised the building as Weissbruck's merchant guild. Immediately sensing danger, he hurried over to investigate.

As he made his way in amongst the people, his ears caught words spoken by many people at once. Words that yielded various nuggets of interest:

"…bandits!..."

"…they're robbing the place…"

"….many people trapped inside…"

That was all the bounty hunter needed to hear. He made his way to the front of the crowd. There, stood a man dressed in purple and gold and bearing a flustered expression. His finery betrayed his status as head of the guild and his name was Rudiger. Rudiger caught sight of the bounty hunter and hurried over.

"You!" he exclaimed "I know you! You're the bounty hunter with those Reavers!"

Dimitri nodded.

"There are criminals in there" Rudiger said jerking his thumb at the building behind him "They're looting the place for all it's worth!"

The bounty didn't reply. Instead, he raised his hand before marching off to the building. In one motion he unslung his crossbow from his back and carefully loaded a quarrel.

He then headed to the front door – where he was immediately confronted with the ugly sight of a bandit barring the way.

"Who are you?" he demanded "Ya not comin' in…"

The bandit never got to finish his sentence – as a quarrel slammed into his face at point blank range. The man's skull was smashed apart in a sickening crunch of bone and his body crumbled into a heap.

Unperturbed, Dimitri stepped over the corpse, calmly loaded another quarrel and entered the building.

"An intruder!" came a shout.

And in an instant, the Kislevite found himself confronted by four men. Each looked muscular, bedraggled and desperate – as many criminals tend to be. Each of the bandits clutched small bags of gold coinage and a weapon and all four proceeded to circle the bounty hunter.

One charged for him – Dimitri responded by firing the crossbow. The quarrel came hurtling through the air and buried itself hard and fast into the man. The bandit screamed as the quarrel ripped his flesh creating the bloodiest of wounds. The man then toppled forward as his comrades moved in.

Another of the bandits struck the Kislevite from behind with a crude club. The force of the blow made the bounty hunter drop his crossbow – but he managed to recover quickly. He reached for the man, grabbed him by the front of his shirt and threw him across the room. The hapless bandit sailed through the air, and crashed into a nearby table, sending it collapsing in a cloud of dust.

The next bandit charged forward with a knife in hand. Acting quickly, the bounty hunter reached out and grabbed him by the wrist. He then twisted it, sending the man into a scream of pain. Reaching out, Dimitri managed to prise the knife out of the man's hand – before kneeing him in the chest. The man took the blow – but before he time to recover, he suddenly felt the knife plunge into his chest.

The remaining bandit gaped at the bounty hunter. Then, he opened his mouth and screamed a scream of insane courage. With a short sword gripped tightly in hand, he charged for the bounty hunter. Dimitri however reached, with unfaltering calm, for his hand axe. The bandit charged with blade outstretched – but, within seconds of impact, the Kislevite stepped aside.

And drove the axe's blade deep into the bandit's face.

The axe cleaved its way through flesh and bone with a mighty crunch. Now with no sense of control, the bandit's body crumpled to the floor.

Dimitri paused, and surveyed the five bodies and the damage caused. He then knelt down and retrieved his crossbow. Then, dusting off his hands, he left the building.

* * *

"So what do you intend to do now?" Lilly asked.

"As long as there's treasure to be found you know I'll be all for it!" Jarek replied.

"Yes I suppose that would be more appealing than signing up for the Imperial army."

Upon hearing this, Jarek frowned.

"So" the priestess went on, eager to change the subject "I take it you'll be joining me to track down those elves?"

"Of course!" the tomb raider grinned "If you know where the best treasure can be found then that's good enough for me!

"Besides you might need someone watching your back…."

It was morning in the Howling Gryphon. Few people were around as the regular crowd were most likely nursing hangovers from the night before. All that were in the room were the priestess and the tomb raider, both seated at a table with bowls of soup in front of them.

"That's good to hear" Lilly said.

"How do the others feel about this?" Jarek asked.

Lilly hesitated before answering:

"I told Torestorm and he said he'll consider it. He said whilst it appeared a worthwhile cause, he is with the Starlight Guardians now and it would seem that they are the greater priority.

"And I guess Gognak would do the same"

"What about Dimitri?" the tomb raider asked.

Another silence hung between the two.

"I have no idea" the priestess said "I told him but he didn't appear to show any interest."

"Maybe you could ask him?" Jarek said nodding to the other side of the room.

And there, coming down the flight of stairs, was the Kislevite himself, his eyes looking as vigilant as ever.

"Dimitri!" Lilly called, motioning him over.

The bounty hunter blinked before heading over.

"Good morning to you!" Lilly grinned "Want some breakfast?"

Dimitri gazed at the bowl of soup as it was placed before him. He then looked to see Lily, still smiling.

"My treat" she grinned.

The bounty hunter took his seat and picked up the bowl in both hands.

"Thank you."

Immediately, Jarek fell over backwards in his chair. Lily, took a step backwards, her eyes widened in disbelief.

The Kislevite however didn't bat an eyelid.

The Tomb Raider got to his feet, words forming out of astonishment.

"Y-Y-You can talk!" he spluttered at the bounty hunter.

"Of course I can" Dimitri said, his voice deep and his speech perfect Reikspiel however choked with a thick Kislev accent.

"B-But you went all this time without saying a word!" Lily exclaimed.

"Would you trust someone who hunts down criminals for a living?" came the blunt reply "Would you trust someone who inspires fear and misery in his wake?"

The Tomb Raider and the priestess exchanged glances.

"So why did you join us?" the priestess asked.

"I am after someone" Dimitri said "Thought Althion might know something"

"And this someone" Jarek asked "Who is he?"

But before the Kislevite could answer, he was interrupted by a distinctive voice.

"So you decided to talk?"

The three humans looked up to see Torestorm approach the table. Gognak was with him.

"You knew?" Lilly demanded.

"And a good morning to you too" the Dreadlord replied sharply

"I read up on him" he went on "I wanted to know if the bounty hunter could be trusted – Althion's intelligence told me everything I needed to know"

Dimitri said nothing.

"And?" Jarek answered.

"He's fine by me" the elf replied

Dimitri still said nothing.

"Anyway" Gognak said "We wish to announce that we have both been summoned by Althion for an assignment for the Starlight Guardians."

"So we'll be parting company for now" Torestorm added.

"So you won't be helping us finding those elven bandits" the priestess said, her voice sullen.

"Correct"

"But Torestorm!" Lilly protested "You can't leave us! We need your leadership! We've accomplished so much with your guidance!"

"You can manage" Torestorm replied "After all, you _do_ have military experience on your side"

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about him" the elf replied nodding towards Dimitri "My understanding is that you were an officer in the Kislev military?"

"That is true" the bounty hunter replied.

Jarek and Lilly exchanged bewildered glances.

"So what do you intend to do?" Jarek asked the Kislevite.

"As long as there are criminals for me to hunt, I will go with you" came the reply "And if these elves have a bounty on their heads, that's all I need to know"

"That's good" Lilly said "Now is there anything else you'd like to tell us?"

* * *

Dimitri did not reply.

Before the three humans stood Reikwald forest: a mass of green leaves and tall timbers. In amongst the greenery was a darkness which no light could penetrate. There was no definable way in save for a well-used road.

"This must be it" Lilly murmured.

"It sure looks spooky" Jarek added "Just the perfect place for a criminal to hide."

"So what do we do?" the priestess asked the Kislevite.

"We're heading in" Dimitri replied "We need to find where the elves are hiding."

"Why don't we follow the road?" Jarek suggested "Bring them to us!"

"If we do that, we'll be ambushed" the bounty hunter said sternly "We need to find them before they find us"

And with that, he left the road and headed into the trees. Lilly followed. Jarek however hesitated – he looked around, up and down the road, before following.

"Who in their right mind would want to go through this place?" he muttered.

And so, the three adventurers made their way through the forest. Their fingers were gripped tight around their weapons ready for a potential ambush: they were on their enemy's home-ground and at their mercy. Three pairs of eyes darted left and right, ready to detect any sudden sense of movement.

"What exactly are we looking for?" Lilly whispered.

"Somewhere where someone can hide" Dimitri said softly.

"What, in the middle of a forest?"

"I hear elves hide in trees" Jarek added "Well, at least that's what they say in Bretonnia…"

"Trees are also the perfect place to set an ambush" the bounty hunter hissed.

"So I reiterate" Lilly said "What exactly are we looking for?"

"Something like…"

Suddenly a shout rang out: The bounty hunter and the priestess spun around to see the tomb raider fall face first onto the forest floor. Then they noticed his foot: It was caught in an iron ring.

"….Something like that…" Dimitri said.

"What the hell's that doing there?" Jarek groaned.

"Are you all right?" Lilly asked.

"I've had worse falls" the tomb raider grinned.

The bounty hunter knelt down and brushed away around the ring. And there, underneath the dirt and the leaves, was set of wooden planks – the type of planks that yielded a trapdoor.

"Think this could be it?" the priestess asked the bounty hunter.

"Only one way to find out…."

* * *

The trap door required little force to open – it was unlocked and it opened with the ease of well-used hinges. Beneath it revealed a rocky shaft with a ladder leading down. And there, at the bottom of the shaft, was a passageway leading off.

"Seems like a good place to hide" Jarek mused.

"Shall we proceed then?" Lilly asked.

Dimitri nodded before swinging around and headed down the ladder.

"Can you see anything?" the priestess asked.

"I see a door" came the reply "This could be it…"

Jarek looked at Lilly before clambering down.

At the bottom of the shaft, Jarek looked to see, to his surprise, the passageway reveal itself as a tunnel carved into the rock. The passageway ran for a short time before ending at a wooden door.

"I've already tried it" Dimitri said "It's locked."

"Leave it to the professional" Jarek grinned, pulling out a lock pick from his belt. He knelt down before the door as Lilly came off the ladder. He fiddled with the lock before he heard the sound of a click.

"Aha!" he grinned "Sounds like success!"

"Jarek!" Lilly yelled "Look out!"

And suddenly, from out of nowhere, a bolt came streaking through the air and slammed its way into the tomb raider's shoulder. Jarek yelped with pain and staggered backwards.

"Are you all right?" the priestess asked urgently.

"Yeah" the tomb raider grinned in grim fashion "This is not the first time that this has happened"

"The elves must've set a trap to this door" Lilly noted "What do we do?"

Dimitri responded by walking up to the door and striking it with his axe. The lock was struck with such force that it buckled and gave way. The bounty hunter then gently pushed the door open – much to the Priestess' and the tomb raider's disbelief.

"That works…" Lilly said softly.

* * *

The elf was dressed in a leather jerkin and leggings befitting that of a bandit. In his hands, he held an arrow, notched to his bow and ready to fire. He fixed the intruders with an accusing glare.

"What are you doing here?' he growled.

"We heard you elves were harassing the humans who travel through this forest here" Jarek grinned.

"Then you are a fool!" the elf snapped. And then he fired – the arrow slammed into Lilly. The priestess shrieked with pain as the shaft buried its way into her body.

"Lilly!" Jarek exclaimed and rushed to her side.

The arrow had made its way deep into the priestess' stomach, prompting her to collapse in a heap, coughing up blood. Jarek ran to the priestess' side and knelt down, lifting her into a sitting position.

"Are you all right?" the tomb raider demanded urgently

"The wound…." Lilly in between the heaviest of breathes "….It's deep…"

Dimitri gripped his axe and charged for the elf. With ferocity, he dealt a cruel blow to the elf's shoulder. As the elf staggered backwards, the bounty hunter followed it up with a fist to the stomach – one with such force that it sent the elf slamming into the wall.

"Can't you heal yourself?" Jarek yelled.

Lilly didn't reply. Instead she coughed up heavily – as she did so, the hand covered her mouth was suddenly caked with blood pouring from in-between the fingers.

"What do I do?" the tomb raider murmured "What do I do? If only Torestorm were here…"

But the murmur was enough to be picked up by the elf. He immediately fixed the two humans with a gaze of astonishment.

"The Dreadlord?" he exclaimed "You know him?"

"_You_ know him?" Jarek retorted.

This elf didn't reply – Instead he got to his feet and bolted. Evading both Dimitri and Jarek's grip he sprinted back up the tunnel.

"Get back here!" Dimitri shouted, taking aim with his crossbow.

"Dimitri!" Jarek said "Forget him!

"What?"

"We have more important things to worry about."

Dimitri blinked at the bleeding Lilly.

"I need healing" she whispered "Quickly"

"You heard her" Jarek said to the bounty hunter "We gotta get outta here!"

"Not when we have a job to do!"

"And we can't do it without our healer!" Jarek snarled "I don't know about you but I have no intention of leaving anyone behind!"

Dimitri frowned at these words, with a weariness of hearing such words being uttered many times before.

Jarek then got his feet, cradling the bloodied priestess in his arms.

"We'll be back" the tomb raider said "This time, we know what we're looking for.

"There's always a next time Dimitri – just as long as Lilly lives"

The bounty hunter blinked before nodding.

* * *

Meanwhile, in another part of the forest, Claudia looked up at the man before her.

He was a huge man, dressed in chain mail, and boasting a thick brown beard and arms as thick as trees.

"Do you have it?" he asked.

Claudia broke eye contact but, at the same time, she reached underneath her cloak and pulled out a golden statuette.

"I sincerely hope" she said slowly "that this takes care of the money I owe you."

"Oh it will" the man grinned, taking the statuette.

"So what are you doing now?" he then asked.

"I'm getting out of here" the woman snapped, turning away "You've brought me to the attention of the authorities so it's best I keep a low profile for a while."

"Shame" the man mocked "I was hoping you'd join me for another game of dice."

"Go to hell!" Claudia snapped – and with that, she disappeared into the trees.

The big man chuckled to himself – before hearing the sound of footsteps approach.

"Konrad" came a voice "Is it done?

The big man named Konrad turned to see a man dressed in a white robe, his features hidden by a hood.

"Got it right here" he replied, proudly displaying the golden statuette.

"Useless trinket" the hooded man sneered.

The big man's eyes widened.

"My lord?" Konrad asked "You're displeased?"

"No I am not" the man said "I don't dismiss the effort gone into acquiring this but in the end that's all there is to it"

"I don't understand!"

"The fact that this statuette is in our hands is a victory over the elves in this forest.

"I feared they were getting close to our operation – so I needed something that would get rid of them. Stealing this statuette and putting the blame on the elves will bring them to the attention of various mercenaries, bounty hunters, Dwarven slayers, Bretonnian Knights and anyone will slit a throat for a copper piece."

"So the elves will get killed for us over something they didn't steal…" Konrad started.

"…and no one will suspect us at all" the man finished.

"My lord Zharradan" Konrad smiled "That is a scheme that Tzeentch himself would be proud of!"

"Yes I know…."


	8. Bitter and Twisted: Conflict

**Bitter and Twisted**

**II**

**Conflict**

Another day was beginning in Weissbruck as the town faced its third week of being under martial law.

By now, the populace were growing accustomed to see the armoured soldiers of the Watch patrol the streets on a regular basis. Rumours of a possible Chaos cult lurking underneath the nose of the people were enough to take action. If the rumours were true, then the threat would have to be dealt with and the people of Weissbruck would need to be kept in check to prevent collapsing into panic. Thus seeing the ever-vigilant soldiers of the Watch patrolling the streets were enough to reassure the people that they're protected from any danger.

But by now, discontent was emitting amongst the people. Some were saying, in the whispered of voices, that there was no such threat of Chaos. From here, rumours began proliferating saying that the threat was propaganda designed to frighten the people, the martial law wasn't at all interested in protecting the people from Chaos and Heydrich Vogel was abusing his power as captain of the Watch

But whatever the rumours, they were only uttered behind the backs of the vigilant soldiers. Any such dissension would face arrest and then punishment of the severe variety.

In any case, it made walking through Weissbruck particularly difficult for any cultist travelling incognito.

Konrad made his way through the streets of Weissbruck, kept within the safety of a heavy cloak, his head hidden under a hood. Dressed like this he looked like everyone else and was able to move unchallenged. Every now and then however, he looked up to see if there were any soldiers approaching.

But so far, he'd been lucky. Konrad hadn't attracted any attention – but it was amazing no one had noticed. Surely someone would've picked up the stench of Chaos on him but no, no such suspicions had come about.

Still, the cultist had to laugh – if only the people, who walked past him so unsuspectingly, knew the true threat was just an arm's reach away.

The Great Schemer himself would've been proud….

In the meantime, the cultist's focus returned to his mission: before him stood his destination and the reason for taking such a risk.

The Watch House itself.

Taking a deep breath, Konrad stepped inside.

Upon entering, he was confronted with the sight of a room. On the left wall was a board covered with Wanted posters. In the middle wall, was a secure-looking door no doubt leading into the depths of the Watch House. And on the right side of the room was a desk with a young soldier sitting behind it.

The soldier looked up as Konrad entered.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

The cultist lowered his hood – but the soldier appeared indifferent.

So far so good.

"I'm enquiring about a bounty" the cultist said "The Bitterwind Rose?"

"Ah yes" the soldier replied "What would you like to know?"

"I was the one who placed that bounty" Konrad said "I was wondering if there had been any developments"

"There has been some interest: We have had some warriors coming in and asking about it"

"And?"

"So far however there has been little evidence of the Bitterwind Rose being stopped or it's members being killed. At the present time, the bounty still stands."

"I see" Konrad said "Well thank you anyway"

And with that, he turned to leave.

Konrad stepped out of the Watch House and into a street, a soft chuckle emitting from his lips.

He had walked into the belly of the beast and they didn't suspect a thing. They didn't know that the best lead on finding this elusive Chaos cult was the man who'd placed a bounty on the unsuspecting elves.

Of course, it was an annoyance that this now meant that the elves were still persisting but still, Konrad had to laugh.

The Great Schemer himself would've been proud….

Just then, his laughter ceased – he had seen someone approach.

It was a big man, dressed in black and furs, and carrying a crossbow and an axe. The man had the facial features, as well as the distinctive moustache, that designated him as a Kislevite.

Konrad could feel his blood run cold – but he had no idea why: He hadn't seen this man before.

But something in the back of his mind told him he should've…

The man stopped in front of the Konrad.

The cultist was growing increasingly uneasy. Who was this man? Why should he recognise him?

Dimitri Shandrikova looked at the man up and down. Then, with a shrug, he headed into the Watch House.

Konrad paled – shaken by the encounter.

Somehow, he felt compelled to tell Zharradan about this….

* * *

"So the mission was a failure?" Torestorm inquired.

"'Fraid so" Jarek replied.

"And Lilly?"

"When we came back, I left her in the care of the Temple of Shallya"

"Must've been a bad wound" Gognak noted.

"You don't know the half of it….."

The three Reavers were sitting at their familiar table in the Howling Gryphon. Apart from a group of soldiers around another table, they were the only ones in the tavern. The soldiers were all from the Watch and, if appearances were anything to go by, seemed to be off duty, engaging with loud voices and ale being downed.

"How did the mission go with Althion?" Jarek said conversationally.

"He had uncovered something with his intelligence" Gognak said bluntly "Starlight Guardian business."

"Is it something I should know?"

"We have no time to discuss that now" Torestorm said urgently "Tell us: Did you manage to find anything about these elves?"

"Nothing" Jarek sighed "We found their hideout and encountered a single elf before we were forced to turn back. However, that one elf did appear to have heard of you"

"What do you mean?"

"I mentioned your name, by accident, but the elf recognised it. Spooked him enough to make a bolt for it"

The Dreadlord's brow furrowed at this piece of news.

"Should I be surprised?" he muttered "Several hundred years is a long time to make plenty of enemies"

A brief silence hung between the mercenaries.

"So what do we do now?" Jarek asked.

"What do we do?" Gognak echoed "We go after these elves of course!"

"Is that wise?" Torestorm said "These elves know someone else is now aware of the location of their hideout. They surely would've abandoned it by now"

"Like all elves do" the dwarf growled under his breath.

"And if they didn't they would be expecting us to make a return" Jarek added.

"And somehow" the Dreadlord said "There's something about 'elven bandits' that doesn't appear to make sense…."

"Who cares?" the dwarf snapped "An elf is an elf whether Wood, Dark or High! And you can't trust an elf!"

"You do realise I'm sitting right next to you" Torestorm growled.

"You want a fight?" came a shout "Not in my bar you won't!"

The Reavers then looked up to see Walter approach. In his hands were a tray with two tankards of ale and a goblet of wine.

Gognak and Torestorm exchanged glaring looks but said nothing. Instead they both reached for their drinks.

"Thank you" Jarek said, his fingers closing around a tankard.

"You look worried" he then said to Walter.

The bartender jerked his head in the direction of the soldiers.

"It's them" he said "This damn martial law has scared off my best customers!"

"But rumours of a Chaos cult are something to take seriously" Torestorm reasoned "Even if they are mere rumours"

"You honestly think those soldiers are acting on rumours?" Walter said softly.

And at that moment, the soldiers at the table began singing. All of them raised their voices and sung an Imperial battle hymn – with slurred words choked with the stench of ale.

The only words uttered in an otherwise empty tavern.

* * *

Days later, Dimitri and Jarek found themselves for a second time, in the Reikwald forests – only this time, they had Torestorm and Gognak. The tomb raider, the elf and the dwarf all crowded around the trapdoor, nestled in the forest floor.

"This is it?" Gognak demanded

"Well…yes" Jarek replied

"It doesn't look well concealed to me" Torestorm observed "Seems like they are indeed expecting a return…"

"You don't suppose they've abandoned it?" the tomb raider suggested.

"Just like an elf to run away" the dwarf growled.

"Unlikely" Dimitri spoke up "Had a look around. There doesn't seem to be any tracks leading off"

"Meaning we're all walking into a trap" the Dreadlord said.

A silence descended among the mercenaries.

"How much do you want to wager that this trapdoor is rigged to set off something?" Jarek then asked.

"Enough talk!" Gognak snapped "I've never been afraid of any elf and I'm not about to start!"

And to prove it, he grasped the handle of the trapdoor and yanked it with great force.

Then, to everyone's astonishment, it open easily. It was not locked nor did it appear to set off anything.

The mercenaries all exchanged surprised glances - however tempered with wariness.

And at their feet, lay an open hole leading deep into the earth and into darkness…..

* * *

"Only an elf would live in a cave!" the dwarf muttered.

"I thought it was dwarves who did that" Jarek said.

"We don't live in caves!" Gognak snapped "We mine them out, carving, building and fashioning them into underground bastions!"

The four warriors were standing in a room – one where Dimitri and Jarek had been before. Before them stood a massive door, made from solid oak and boasting a lock – one that took the form of a rather-elaborate looking metal apparatus.

"So would this place be one of these bastions?" Jarek inquired.

Upon hearing this, the Dwarf's features softened, lines of remembrance appearing across his face.

"Yes it would" he said. He then reached out and ran his hand across the wall.

"You see this?" he went on "Carved straight into the rock. Only a dwarf could've done this. And it disgusts me to think the elves have taken this place over!"

"Glad we're in an agreement then" Torestorm said "Lets get moving"

"So how do you intend to open this?" Jarek asked, looking up at the door.

"Step aside elf!" Gognak demanded "This is clearly a Dwarven construct! There's no room for you here!"

"We'll see about that!" the Dreadlord snapped back. And to prove his point, he grasped the handle of the door with his hand.

But with the weight being placed on the handle, a small click was heard. And before the elf had time to react, a small spike shot from the lock. The spike slammed into Torestorm's hand, penetrating his armoured glove. The Dreadlord yelled with pain and drew his hand back.

"Are you all right?' Jarek said urgently.

"The door is trapped!" the elf gasped "It got me in the hand!"

"Well I'll be" Gognak grinned "The door doesn't like elves either!"

"Are Dwarven doors meant to do that?" the tomb raider asked the dwarf.

"Maybe"

"Well then" Torestorm said, as his hands were bandaged by Jarek "If you're the expert then maybe you should try opening the door!"

"Why should I?" the dwarf growled "I would sooner hack off your legs than follow the commands of an elf!"

"That's a tall order" Jarek observed.

But Dimitri was already there. With a look of utter disgust written across his face, he drove his axe into the door.

"Shut your mouth _child_" Gognak snapped, addressing Jarek and ignoring Dimitri.

"So I'm a child am I?" Jarek retorted "So what does that make you? The offspring of a Wyvern and a Giant?"

"You'll pay for that!" the dwarf boomed, readying his axe.

"Cease this squabbling!" Torestorm thundered "Need I remind you both we have a job to do?"

"I insist the manling apologise!" Gognak snapped.

"No chance of that happening" the tomb raider sneered.

"So is that it, is it?" the dwarf growled "Well then, I challenge you to a duel!"

"Oh Asuryan…" Torestorm groaned.

"Forget it!" Jarek snapped back "I refuse your challenge! There's no…"

The tomb raider never got to complete his sentence – for he suddenly felt a pair of strong hands grab him and pull him into the angry gaze of Dimitri.

"Jarek" the Kislevite rumbled "Can you open that door?"

"Y-Y-Yes…"

"Then get to it" Dimitri boomed "NOW."

Jarek paled as he was released from the bounty hunter's iron grip. Staggering backwards, he then reached into his belt and pulled forth a well-used lock-pick. Torestorm watched the tomb raider with an amused grin before turning to Gognak.

"Looks like I won't be sharpening my axe on the manling" the dwarf muttered.

"I'll give you money to pay for it's sharpening" the Dreadlord replied.

"Shut it elf."

* * *

A tonne of rocks came crashing down from up above. Jarek look up in alarm but only for a split second – riding on a reaction time and movements forged from being in this type of situation many times before, he dived out of the way.

The tomb raider hit the floor of the hallway face first, breathing heavily. He then looked up to see the Dreadlord approach.

"Seems we were expected" Jarek gasped.

"Agreed" the elf said "We need to be on our toes. There's no telling how many more traps those bandits would have set up"

"Ha!" Gognak sneered "Just like elves to try something underhanded like setting up traps!"

"How about setting up traps in an abandoned Dwarf bastion?" Torestorm retorted.

"Now that's getting personal" the dwarf growled.

Torestorm approached Jarek with bandages as the tomb raider got to his feet. But as he did so, a flagstone shifted under his boot.

"Look out!" Jarek shouted, recognising the signs all too well.

Suddenly, without warning, a massive spear shrieked out from the darkness and plunged it's way into the Dreadlord. With little time to react, there was little Torestorm could do but roar with pain most incredible from this new trap. The elf was then forced backwards and slammed into the wall.

Gognak watched this scene unfold with a rate of amusement that only a dwarf could understand.

"Well just don't stand there!" Jarek exclaimed.

"What?" the dwarf said nonchalantly "You expect me to heal him?"

"YES!" the tomb raider spluttered.

"Give me one good reason why"

"I could denounce you as traitor" Jarek said grinning a wolfish grin "And then you'll find yourself at the centre of some unwanted attention."

The dwarf looked over his shoulder – to see Dimitri, ever-ready with his stern glare and his loaded crossbow.

Gognak glared at Jarek.

"You'll pay for this" he growled, as he reached for some bandages.

* * *

Before the warriors stood a massive pillar. At its base was a mess of runes, each made at different points of time. The runes were a mixture of the inscribed and the painted – with the latter overlapping the former.

"What type of runes are these?" Jarek asked.

Torestorm leant forward with an examining eye.

"A mixture of Dwarven and Elven runes I do believe"

"Pah!" Gognak spat "Elven vandalism!"

"I think you might be right" the Dreadlord noted "The elven runes here are far more recent than the Dwarven ones"

The Dwarf blinked in surprise. Then he moved forward to the pillar to see for himself.

"You're right" he then said, his voice growing serious.

"What do the runes say?"

"These runes inscribed here are indeed Dwarvish" Gognak said gravely "They say 'May you Drink Well and May Your Axe be Forever Bloodied'"

"Meaning?"

"Meaning this room used to be a drinking hall" the dwarf said "Seems are we are indeed in some kind of Dwarvish outpost. One that has been lost for a long time"

"You mean abandoned?" Jarek asked.

"Abandoned? Never!" Gognak barked "Most likely it as invaded! Either by the grobi, the Skaven or the elves!"

"You Dwarves certainly have a lot of enemies" the tomb raider observed.

"What a surprise" Torestorm muttered under his breath.

"What do the elvish runes say?" Jarek then asked.

"I recognise this tongue…" the Dreadlord mused.

As he studied the runes, his mouth began frowning. Then suddenly, he got to his feet with a grim expression on his face.

"What's the matter?" Jarek asked "What did the runes say?"

"It's a warning" Torestorm said grimly. And with that he turned and headed off, leaving Jarek, and Gognak blinking in astonishment.

* * *

Four elves stood in an enormous cavern. One was bedecked in full plate armour, whereas the other three were dressed in regular travelling leathers. They all stood confronting the Reavers.

"What are you doing here?' the armoured elf demanded, obviously the bandit leader "You dare intrude?"

"Yes we do!" Jarek said stepping forward "Heard you were raiding merchants around these parts"

"So what?" the elf leader replied, "You all think you coming down here and stopping us will make you a big man?"

"I'm not a manling you moron elf!" Gognak rumbled stepping forward.

"Enough talk!" Torestorm thundered, throwing back his cloak "Have at you!"

Upon seeing the Dreadlord, the elves suddenly grew alarmed.

"You!" the leader elf gasped. He then took a step backwards, thus allowing the three other bandits to slowly advance forward.

"Friends of yours?" Jarek shouted at Torestorm.

"Not for much longer they will be!" came the reply.

The leader elf then chuckled.

"You underestimate me Dreadlord" he taunted "For I am not alone!"

And, as if to answer this claim, a quartet of human figures came shambling out from the shadows. They were dressed in rusted armour and decaying cloth of black and gold. They clutched rotting weapons and glared at the warriors with unseen eyes.

"Wights!" Torestorm gasped.

The undead shambled forward and formed a defensive circle around the elf leader.

"What have you done!" the Dreadlord shouted "Have you made a pact?"

"You could say that" the elf leader replied.

"Are you insane?" Torestorm spluttered "You have no idea what you're dealing with! You can't control the dark art of necromancy!"

"Of course not" came the reply "Which is why I'm having someone else do it for me."

And with that, the three elf bandits charged.

Torestorm turned to Jarek, his crossbow in hand.

"Take this" he commanded "Use it well!"

"But…..I've never used one of these before!"

"Then now's a good time to start!" the Dreadlord shouted, drawing his twin blades.

And with that, he and Dimitri charged into combat with the three bandits.

Jarek's fingers fumbled with the crossbow. It was made from a technology that was both familiar and unfamiliar to his human comprehension. Nevertheless, his fingers continued to run across the crossbow, slowly figuring things out as they went.

"If Dimitri can use one of these…." He murmured.

Torestorm's blades flew quicker than the blink of an eye, being driven by years of combat experience – but this time it was different. Much to his surprise, the elf was now facing a pair of elves: Equals in race, experience and combat prowess. No matter how many blows the Dreadlord dealt, the elven bandits were able to parry each move. And at the same time, Torestorm was able to evade each nasty blow dealt to him.

Conversely, Dimitri was attacking with the finesse of a blunt instrument, as befit his all too-human fighting style. Utilising brute force in his axe had always worked in the past but that was battling criminals, chaos and greenskins. Needless to say, fighting an elf, which moved with a speed and grace beyond the bounty hunter's comprehension, was a new experience: Every blow failed to make contact and the bounty hunter found very little time to recover.

Suddenly, the Kislevite heard a shout.

"Manling!" Gognak boomed "Get down!"

And then, the dwarf launched his arquebus into the air and into the face of the elf!

But the bandit was too quick: Without warning, he reached out his hand and grabbed the firearm. Then, in one quick movement he flung it to the wall of the cavern. The arquebus struck the rocky surface with so much force that it cracked upon impact, effectively ruining it.

"Got any brighter ideas?" Torestorm shouted, in between blows.

"Yes I do!" the dwarf growled. He then slung his pack to the front and opened it.

"Ha!" the elf leader taunted "The intruders are all hopeless! Kill them! Kill the infidels!"

"Guess again" the Dreadlord shot back "It will be you who will be slain!"

And then, a bolt came screaming through the air and struck one of the elven bandits in the neck. The bolt penetrated the elf's flesh and drove itself right through to come out the other side. The elf died with a gurgling shriek and toppled forward to the floor.

Torestorm looked to see Jarek with the crossbow.

"So that's how it works!" the tomb raider grinned.

The second elf bandit paused in horror to see his companion's gruesome demise. But in doing so he left himself open: Next thing he knew, he felt Dimitri's axe cleave into his face, shattering flesh and bone alike.

"There it is!" Gognak then shouted.

And then, from his pack, the dwarf produced a spherical object with a fuse.

"Reavers!" he shouted "Get down!"

And with that, he lit the bomb and threw it into the air.

The bomb went sailing through the air and struck the third elven bandit. The bandit was struck by such force that he was sent staggering backwards into a large stalagmite.

The bomb then went off, engulfing the elf in massive explosion.

But there was more the come: The explosion had taken a massive portion of the stalagmite with it. The enormous pillar of rock suddenly came tumbling down.

Onto the Wights.

"Look out!" the elven leader shouted leaping clear.

But the wights were too slow to react: Thus nothing could prevent them from being crushed by the massive stalagmite.

The leader however was unharmed: Breathing heavily, he got to his feet. He then stood on top of the fallen stalagmite and gazed down at the Reavers.

"So you've beaten me, my followers and my allies' he said coldly "I suppose you'll be wanting this then"

And with that, he flung a small pouch at Torestorm.

"I will trouble this region no more' the elf then said "But mark my words you four: we will meet again and when it happens, it's going to be very different…"

Then, he turned and leapt off the stalagmite.

"I don't think so!" growled Dimitri, moving into action

The bounty hunter ran up the stalagmite – only to see, on the other side, nothing. The elf had completely disappeared.

"What the?" the Kislevite snapped "He's gone!"

He looked around but the elf was nowhere to be seen – and no sign of any secret door either.

"Bah!" Gognak growled "Just like an elf to turn and run!"

Jarek blinked before turning to the Dreadlord.

"What's in the pouch?" he asked.

Torestorm opened it and out tumbled a jewel. In the light of the lantern, it glowed with a terrific blue.

"Lilly did say an artefact was stolen" the elf asked Jarek "Was this it?"

"…Actually she just said it was an artefact – she didn't say what kind…."

"Interesting…." He said slowly.

"What's the matter?" Jarek asked.

"Something here just doesn't add up" the elf mused.

The elf paused – but then he sniffed the air.

"Wait a minute" he said softly "I smell something. Something I've smelt before…."

Torestorm then knelt down before the body of one of the bandits and began searching the body.

"What are you doing?" Gognak demanded.

"I have a sneaking suspicion….." Torestorm said.

"I knew it!" he then exclaimed - and pulled out a small herbal plant.

"Courva" he declared proudly "A root extract from the jungles of Lustria and used as a drug to speed up reflexes"

"That may explain the fighting style of those elves" Dimitri observed.

"That's nice" Gognak said roughly "So what do we do now?"

"We've got the artefact, we've slain the bandits and the leader said he'll leave this region" Jarek said "That means we've won right?"

"Clearing this place of elves is good enough for me" Gognak said. And with that, he turned and headed out of the cavern.

Jarek looked at the Dreadlord, shrugged and followed the dwarf.

The elf then turned to Dimitri – to see a black look written across the Kislevite's face.

"I wonder what the elves were doing with those Wights?" Torestorm murmured.

Dimitri said nothing.

* * *

Meanwhile, in another location in the Reikwald forest, a man was waiting in a small clearing. A man dressed in the robes of a sorcerer of Tzeentch. The man looked up at the night sky, gazing at the full moon and the stars before him.

Zharradan bore a weary expression. He hadn't been sleeping well these past few days. He was certain that the interfering elven bandits would be crushed with his ruse – so far it had proven successful, as the machinations of his plan were now carrying on unhindered. However, just because things are going well, isn't enough reason to relax.

That's the type of thing a sorcerer of Tzeentch would know all too well.

There was something that was bothering him, a tiny voice whispering things that he didn't really want to know….

He tried to hard to ignore it, but it was awfully persistent.

Just then, the moon disappeared behind a cloud.

Suddenly Zharradan heard a noise and he flicked his head around – only to be confronted with the sight of a hooded figure.

The figure stood several feet away from the sorcerer and dressed in a heavy black cloak.

The sorcerer blinked in shock. Who was this person?

Where did he come from?

The moon emerged from behind the cloud, but with more light, the figures' features continued to remain hidden in darkness.

"Konrad?" Zharradan asked "Dominique?"

"None of the sort"

The sorcerer could feel his blood run cold. Did he even hear this figure approach….?

"Who are you?" Zharradan barked "State your business!"

"I bring news from Weissbruck" the figure replied, his voice pattern a curious mixture of dryness and hissing.

"Your ruse has not succeeded. Despite interest from mercenaries, the elves of the Bitterwind Rose still persist."

"What?" Zharradan exclaimed "You can't be serious!"

"I wouldn't be appearing to you if I wasn't"

The sorcerer paused, allowing this unwelcome piece of information to sink in. Then he groaned.

"It would appear no one will rid me of these turbulent elves…" he groaned.

"And that's where you may want to heed my words" came the reply.

"I am Zeru" the figure went on "I have a little proposition…."


	9. Bitter and Twisted: Intrusion

**Bitter and Twisted**

**III**

**Intrusion**

Zharradan fixed the man with a quizzical gaze.

"So what do you propose?" he said slowly "Why should I listen to you?"

The man named Zeru said nothing. Instead he reached out his hand and snapped his fingers.

And then, without warning, a soft rumbling emerged from underneath the two men. The earth shook with a force of something long-forgotten being woken up.

Suddenly, from underneath, a hand burst forth from the earth: A skeletal hand rising up from the grass and dirt. And in the hand's wake, came an arm attached.

Zharradan blinked as a skeleton, the remanets of a long-forgotten, unknown human, emerged from the ground, drawn by the power of Zeru. The skeleton, fully formed, climbed out from the earth and into the cool night air.

The sorcerer of Tzeentch blinked before grinning a sinister grin.

"A Necromancer?" he observed "I've encountered the likes you before. What is this proposition you have in mind?"

"I come to you with the offer of allegiance."

"Allegiance!" Zharradan echoed "Ha! You can summon as many soldiers as you wish with your powers!"

"Hence why me speaking of this offer must make it worthy of consideration" Zeru replied.

"We have a common enemy" he went on "You want the elves of the Bitterwind Rose out of the way, correct? I can provide information necessary for this goal.

"What I must ask of you is your aid in facing a group of mercenaries. I believe they call themselves the Dragonfire Reavers. They are powerful and we have faced each other before. My understanding is that they are close to crushing the Bitterwind Rose completely."

"Mercenaries?" Zharradan said "If they are of such a concern to a Necromancer such as yourself then they must be a problem."

"And I know Warriors of Chaos like yourself wouldn't back down from the opportunity for possible glory."

"You assume correctly" the sorcerer grinned. He then paused, brow furrowing in thought.

"It would seem that we have a common enemy" he then said "And your proposition intrigues me.

"So I will accept your offer of allegiance."

"You've made a wise choice" Zeru answered.

* * *

Meanwhile, in another part of the forest, the group of people dressed in white robes gathered around a campfire.

These people were those that made up Zharradan's coven. All were well occupied with ale, meat and song.

All but one.

One cultist sat well away from the others, sitting underneath tree and with their features well-hidden under a cloak.

Rasandra Bloodrose was an elf – one who kept her face constantly hidden from the other cultists. The only feature she left revealed was her eyes. As such, her allies didn't bother her much: The cultists figured that she was a tall human woman. Whether she was mercenary or a devotee of Tzeentch didn't matter: Anyone who wished to join the coven and fight was fine by them. After all, anyone willing to join a chaos cult would have to be completely insane or a warrior of exceptional skill.

Either reason was good enough for the cultists.

In addition, they had seen her fight and were impressed enough with her skills to leave her alone.

Just then, her ears picked up the sound of someone approaching. Rasandra looked up – to see a cultist standing before her.

"You're wanted" he grunted.

* * *

Konrad was deep in thought.

Who was that man he'd bumped into in Weissbruck? He appeared unfamiliar but, for some reason, that thought alone didn't sit well with the cultist. Something told him he should've recognised the big man.

The most striking thing about the man was that he had a droopy moustache and was dressed in the furs – distinctions that designated him as a Kislevite.

Konrad knew that Zharradan had spent some time in Kislev. The sorcerer once told the cultist of this time he was taking part in Archaon's invasion dubbed the Storm of Chaos. Acting as part of the Tzeentch contingent, Zharradan managed to occupy an abandoned citadel – this was part of advance guard for the Tzeentch coven the Brotherhood of the Silver Falcon. However, a group of mercenaries broke into the citadel, slew his forces and drove the sorcerer out. Since that fateful encounter, Zharradan retreated south and entrenched himself in the Empire, gathering forces in a cult, in preparation for a second, and even greater, strike.

However, the sorcerer has made mention of a foe: A giant of a man, with a ferocious gaze, a strong arm and a tenacity that appeared unbreakable. Konrad had never heard Zharradan mention the name of this foe but had come to understand that they had both crossed blades on several occasions.

So was the man he saw in Weissbruck this fabled foe….?

Just then, the cultist heard a noise – one that broke him from his reverie.

Konrad looked up to see a woman approach. A woman who had her face hidden by a cloak, revealing naught but a lock of auburn hair reaching down to her shoulders and eyes that were devoid of emotion – the type that had seen many deaths played out before them. She was dressed in travelling leathers, accompanied by a cape and a belt loaded with several daggers.

"Dominique" Konrad greeted.

"You summoned me my lord?" the woman replied, kneeling.

"I have an assignment for you" the cultist said "I want you to head into Weissbruck and find someone for me."

"And this person is?" the woman named Rasandra asked.

"I have no name" Konrad said "Only a description. You are looking for a man: A man dressed in black leather and sporting furs. He is of a big figure and has a moustache."

"And?"

"That's all."

"That's not much to work from" Rasandra noted "So why do you want this man found?"

"I do believe that this man is the foe that Zharradan has mentioned."

"Are you sure?" Rasandra inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course" Konrad said firmly "I want you to find this man, get a name and find out what he is doing in Weissbruck. We need to consider if he truly does pose a threat and what action should be taken."

"As you command" Rasandra replied, bowing her head.

* * *

The following morning, Rasandra found herself approaching the gates to Weissbruck on horseback. Allowing herself a sense of ease, she reached up and lowered her cloak, revealing her facial features.

Being far from the cultists by now, she could allow herself to be at ease.

For Rasandra's presence within the coven was one of intelligence. She was a spy, acting on the behalf of the Bitterwind Rose. Already the Bitterwind Rose had proven to be an annoyance through constant interference with Zharradan's plans. Thus, through Rasandra's actions, every move the cultists made was promptly thwarted by the elves.

It was a risky venture true – should she be discovered the consequences would be hellish indeed. Traitors aren't taken too kindly in the world and are usually punished by hanging, drawing and quartering.

But that was in the civilised world. It was anyone's guess how maniacs would react to treachery….

As she drew nearer to the gates of the town, Rasandra saw a pair of guards step out before her, motioning her to stop. They were armed with heavy halberds.

"Name?" one of them said.

"Dominique" came the reply.

"State your business" the other one said.

"Visiting a friend" Rasandra answered.

The two guards eyed her up and down with suspicious glares.

"Be aware" the first guard said gravely, "We are currently under martial law. Rumours are persisting of an underground cult. As such, it is whispered that a revolt and anarchy may come.

"We advise that you stay out of trouble."

"I'll keep that mind" the elf said.

Satisfied, the guards stepped aside, allowing Rasandra and her steed entry.

Upon stepping into the town, the elf kept her head down and avoided any kind of eye contact. Stepping into enemy territory is never an easy task so extreme care must be exercised. But staying in an Imperial town was more difficult than infiltrating a cult – more so with martial law in effect. The slightest slip up and the soldiers of Weissbruck would be all over her like maggots in a carcass.

But if this fabled foe was enough to worry Zharradan…

Just then, Rasandra's eye fell on a tavern – the ideal place to start her search. She noted the sign above the door: The Howling Gryphon.

She paused – and then noticed, on the horizon, some dark clouds massing.

"Seems a storm is coming," she murmured.

* * *

In the tavern, Jarek was in the Reavers' familiar booth, fingers wrapped around a full tankard of ale. His eye was scanning through the tavern, eying each patron.

Eventually his eye fell on a tall woman: She'd just entered the tavern but her features were concealed under a heavy hood. Jarek blinked at the woman but only briefly – before he returned to his ale.

"Jarek?' came a voice.

The tomb raider looked up only to be confronted by the sight of a man dressed in finery of purple and gold.

"Can I help you?" Jarek asked.

"I am Rudiger Moltke" the man said "You may have heard of me."

"Of course I have" came the reply "You're with the Merchant's Guild."

"And you are with the Dragonfire Reavers if I'm not mistaken."

"So what do you want?"

"I have a little offer for you."

"Important enough for a merchant to set foot in a warrior's tavern?" Jarek grinned.

Rudiger paused, all too aware that many greedy eyes were fixed on him, no doubt drawn by his obvious wealth.

"Precisely" he then said, taking a seat opposite the mercenary.

"I have received word from one of my contacts" the merchant explained "He claims there is an artefact hidden in the Skaag Hills. So I need someone to head into that area and retrieve it.

"I heard you were the expert in this field…."

* * *

In late afternoon, the weather took a turn for the worse: Weissbruck was engulfed by a storm. Heavy rain descended from up above, sending people scurrying for shelter and transforming dirt into mud. The streets grew soaked but the buildings stayed resolute against the rain as they'd done a thousand times before.

The rain continued throughout the afternoon and into the evening.

And it was during this storm that the Dragonfire Reavers gathered in a room in the Howling Gryphon, fresh from their previous journey and ready to consider their next move. Jarek was seated at the table with his feet up, keen for action. Dimitri leant against the wall, his eyes ever wary. Gognak stood near the door, hands ready on his axe. And Lilly sat on the bed with hands folded – traces of bandages were peeking from under her robes but otherwise, she had healed from her injuries.

Glancing at each of his companions in turn, the Outcast cleared his throat.

"So tell me" he said "How many of you were as bothered as me upon seeing those elves in cohorts with those Wights?"

"Pah!" Gognak burst out "It's just another good reason not to trust the elves!"

"I am" Jarek said, ignoring Gognak.

"From what you've told me it seems good enough reason to" Lilly agreed.

Dimitri nodded.

"Good" Torestorm said "Because to me there was a lot that happened in that Dwarven outpost that doesn't add up.

"The runes I read on that pillar? I recognised them: They're runes of the Dark Elves!"

Jarek and Lilly exchanged glances.

"Bah!" the dwarf growled "What difference would that make? An elf is an elf!"

"That certainly would explain what the elves were doing in that outpost" Jarek noted.

"Think they might be in cohorts with undead?" Lilly asked.

"Just like an elf to go running for help" Gognak muttered.

"In any case" Torestorm said, ignoring the dwarf "Something suspicious is going on. And I want answers! So I'm returning to that Dwarven outpost to investigate further.

"Who's with me?"

The four mercenaries each nodded their consent.

But little did they know someone else was interested in their movements…..

* * *

Outside, hidden in the darkness and the shadows, was a form. One that leant with back to the wall, feet resting on stone and fingers grasped tight on the walls of the tavern. The elf was being soaked by the rain but she refused to heed to it.

Rasandra was trying hard not to breathe. This was daring indeed, spying on the enemy within such a close proximity, let alone remaining on this wall for such a long period of time – but this wasn't the first time she had done such a thing.

Since her arrival in Weissbruck, she had managed to track down the man whom Konrad described and quickly determined that he had taken up temporary residency here in the tavern. Now, it was a case of finding out as much information as she could. And so far, this had proved quite fruitful: Through talking to the people in the Howling Gryphon, it seemed that this man was called Dimitri Shandrikova, he was a bounty hunter of fearsome repute and he was affiliated with a group of mercenaries called the Dragonfire Reavers, who had set up a headquarters in this tavern.

And what a motley bunch they were: An elf, a dwarf, a priestess of Shallya and another human adventurer of sorts.

Even now, Rasandra could hear them talk through the wooden shutters, however barely, and they seemed to be planning another raid on the Bitterwind Rose's hideout. She was worried that she would be caught out but so far she had eluded their notice.

But now, it would seem things were happening: Although she couldn't see them, what she could hear suggested that the warriors were on the move, heading out of the room.

Rasandra smiled to herself - looking forward to getting down off this wall.

Just then her ears caught the sound of something else. She heard a voice speak – it was of a gruff nature, suggesting it had to be that of the dwarf. Yet it was spoken very softly, so the elf couldn't hear it.

This was followed by the sound of a door closing.

And then, there was silence.

The elf paused. From the sounds of it, the mercenaries seemed to have vacated the room.

But that doesn't mean that which she hears is to be trusted….

She hesitated, half-expecting a head to suddenly burst from behind the shutters, catching her out.

But after a little while, none such came.

Rasandra blinked and allowed herself a small sigh of relief.

Then she let go of the wall and fell into a space. A quick twist followed and she landed, feet first onto the street below.

She paused – but only long enough for an intrusion to make its way in.

"Going somewhere?" inquired a voice.

The elf looked up to see, in the mouth of the alleyway, a form. In amongst the dim light and the rain, she could see the form was short, stocky, boasted a bushy beard and carried a large axe.

"What do you want?' Rasandra demanded.

"Seems you've been spying on us" the dwarf snapped "And I don't take too kindly to spies."

Looking around, Rasandra found herself cornered with nowhere to run. The mouth of the alleyway was now blocked and up above was only the constant rain. Calmly she drew twin daggers.

Then, without warning, she charged into battle, her feet sloshing through puddles as she went.

And as the rain continued, Gognak ground his teeth and readied his axe.

* * *

With a growl, the dwarf swung his axe just as the elf went rushing past. His blade passed through air, missing completely. He snarled, a curse on his lips but something wasn't quite right. He opened his mouth, but then realised, with horror, he was bleeding.

Looking down, he saw where the elf's blade had penetrated. A fist-sized hole had been ripped in his chest, right where his heart was. Gaping like a fish out of water, his eyes rolled back before he toppled forward, blood spluttering from his lips. His axe tumbled from his hand.

And with an almighty thud, Gognak Sourstone came crashing down to the cobble-stones, blood pouring onto the sodden streets to form a spreading pool of gore.

Rasandra paused before walking quietly away.

And the rain continued to pour.

* * *

"So where's Jarek?" Torestorm asked.

"He won't be joining us" Lilly replied "Seems he was offered a task with the Merchant's Guild."

"What?" the Outcast grinned in sardonic fashion "He's being paid better than us?"

"At least you can make jokes at a time like this" the priestess said gravely.

It had been a difficult past couple of hours: Shortly after their meeting last evening, Gognak had been murdered. His body was found outside the Howling Gryphon by a tavern patron who then went to raise the alarm. This sent the entire tavern into a state of panic – and soon after, the Watch arrived to the scene of the crime. The Watch soldiers sealed off the area, made an effort to calm the onlookers and prevent a sense of panic. An investigation was commenced almost immediately: The Reavers, along with Walter and some regular patrons were all questioned but no witnesses could be located.

Dimitri, convinced he could do a better job, wanted to find out answers on his own but Torestorm managed to talk him out of it.

As such, no one in the Howling Gryphon slept well that night. And when the morning came, there were three of the mercenaries left to pursue the Bitterwind Rose.

And it was these three at the gates of Weissbruck who exchanged glances, wondering what might lie in store ahead.

Little did they know that someone was watching them: Rasandra was hiding in the confines of a nearby alleyway. Keeping within the confines of the shadows, she watched the mercenaries with a watchful eye.

"So what do we do now?' Lilly inquired, asking the words on everyone's mind.

"What can we do?" the Outcast replied "We must continue"

"What?" Lilly burst out "Your comrade is dead and you're just going off like that?"

"If Gognak's murder was the work of the Bitterwind Rose then we have all the more reason to face them."

"You don't know that!"

"I know Dark Elf assassins" Torestorm said firmly "And I know how they work. If the Bitterwind Rose truly does have some assassins in their ranks then they're the best lead we have."

"But what if this isn't the work of these Dark Elves?" Lilly asked.

Torestorm merely shrugged and turned to go.

But then he felt a hand on his shoulder.

It was Dimitri's.

"What's the matter?" the elf asked.

"We're being watched" the Kislevite replied.

Quickly he unslung his crossbow, loaded up a quarrel and fired, back into Weissbruck.

Rasandra blinked in alarm and dived out of the quarrel's flight path. The quarrel sailed through the air and slammed into the corner wall of a nearby house.

Satisfied, the bounty hunter turned away.

Meanwhile, back in an alleyway, Rasandra was sprawled across the cobblestones. Her eyes, wide with alarm, looked over her shoulder and gazed up at the imbedded quarrel.

Seems she'd be a fool to underestimate this bounty hunter….

* * *

The Reavers headed back to the Reikwald Forest, back to the Dwarven outpost. Torestorm took the lead with Dimitri covering the rear. However, as they journeyed on, Lilly could see the elf growing agitated, with his eyes darting in all directions and the more than occasional glances over his shoulder.

"Something wrong?" the priestess eventually asked.

"We're being followed" Torestorm replied. "I can feel it"

"What do you mean?"

"Something is following our every move."

"What is this, gut instinct?" Lilly said, dismissively "You're being paranoid!"

"Call it what you like" Torestorm said "But I know for a fact that something has been following us since we left Weissbruck."

Lilly paused in her step, as Dimitri came up alongside her.

"He's right" the bounty hunter said "We _are_ being followed."

* * *

The journey back to the abandoned outpost was quiet – apart from Torestorm constantly looking over his shoulder, the three mercenaries found their way back to the trapdoor unchallenged. Strangely, no effort had been made to conceal the entrance to the outpost. Once inside, everything was untouched, having been left exactly as the mercenaries had found it in their previous journey. Lilly suggested it may have indeed been abandoned but Torestorm wasn't willing to dismiss such a notion easily.

Torestorm, Dimitri and Lilly made their way to the cavern where the elven captain had been encountered previously. A thorough search eventually revealed a secret door. Beyond this door lay a set of steps that disappeared deeper into the earth.

And so the Reavers descended deeper into the outpost, Torestorm and Dimitri keeping constant watch over their shoulders.

Eventually, they came to a hallway, one with runes inscribed on one wall.

"What's this?" Lilly asked, gesturing to the runes.

The Outcast's face grew with disgust.

"It's Druchii runes" he said grimly.

"Can you read it?" the priestess asked "What do they say?"

The elf didn't reply – as he read the runes, he could feel his face growing increasingly twisted with rage.

"I don't believe this" he growled.

"Torestorm?" Lilly asked with increased concern "Are you all right?"

"Quiet!" Dimitri suddenly barked "Someone's coming!"

And suddenly, without warning, a shape appeared from behind the group. It was concealed under a black cloak and was moving with a grace and speed that was beyond human comprehension. Its tall frame betrayed its status as an elf.

"I knew we were being followed!" Torestorm snarled.

Acting quickly, Dimitri drew forth his crossbow and fired. The quarrel slammed its way into the elf tearing flesh and bone. The elf staggered backwards from the force of the blow.

"Friend of yours?" Lilly said, turning to Torestorm.

"Far from it" the Outcast growled "It's a Druchii."

And with that, the elf launched himself into the intruder. Grabbing the dark elf by the front, Torestorm hurled the dark elf with all his might, sending him slamming into the wall. The dark elf groaned with pain but the Outcast wasn't finished: He then launched the elf into the air.

The dark elf came crashing down to the floor. He groaned with pain and looked up – just in time to see Lilly's staff come crashing down upon him. The staff smashed through the dark elf's skull and drove its way into his brain.

Lilly looked up from the now dead elf and grinned.

"He won't be following us again."

* * *

The man sat at the table grinning at the three warriors.

"You!" Dimitri suddenly growled "You are Siegfried One-Eye!"

"Well you're well informed" the man named Siegfried snapped back.

"You know him?" Torestorm inquired.

"He's a wanted man" the bounty hunter replied "Wanted for treason, smuggling, subversion and associating with Chaos!"

"You flatter me" Siegfried replied.

"Enough talk!" Dimitri snarled "I'm Dimitri Shandrikova and I'm here to bring you in!"

"I don't think so" the criminal growled back, getting to his feet and snapping his fingers.

And suddenly, from out of nowhere, three dark elves appeared, weapons at the ready. Siegfried himself drew forth a bow and notched an arrow.

Unperturbed, the bounty hunter advanced, determination blazing in his eyes. The elves circled around him as Siegfried fired the arrow. The arrow screamed through the air before slamming into Dimitri's chest. Such was the force of the arrow that it tore through the bounty hunter's protecting leather jerkin. Dimitri grimaced but continued to advance, axe in hand.

"You're a tough man Dimitri" Siegfried sneered "It'll be a pleasure to bring you down!"

Lilly and Torestorm exchanged glances and charged into battle to each face an elf.

The third elf took a swing at Dimitri but the bounty hunter dodged it and went for the table. Reaching out, he grabbed Siegfried by the ankle and pulled with all his might.

"You're coming with me" the bounty hunter growled.

The criminal tumbled down to the surface of the table.

"I think not!" Siegfried retorted.

Shaking his foot free from Dimitri's grip, he rolled over to the over side of the table.

However, the third elf then turned to face the bounty hunter.

"You want a fight human!" the elf sneered "Then face me!"

Unperturbed, the Kislevite responded by driving his axe deep into the elf's face, the blade smashing past the bones that made up the elf's skull.

Far from done, the bounty hunter leapt over the table to face his target. Siegfried tried to roll away but he wasn't quick enough: Before he could react he found his body pinned by the force of a boot. The bounty hunter glared at Siegfried.

"Nowhere to run" the Kislevite growled.

And what happened next happened quickly.

Dimitri took his foot off of Siegfried – but only to allow his other foot forward in vicious kick.

Straight into the criminal's temple.

Meanwhile Lilly was battling hard with her elf opponent. He was moving with a quickness – one that her mind couldn't match. For the first tine, she was thinking on her toes both in defence and attack.

"You fight well" the elf sneered "For a human woman."

"You don't fight too badly yourself' the priestess replied "For a pansy!"

Then, the elf thrust his sword forward. Thinking fast, the priestess drew back – but not for long! Following the blow the elf thrust himself forward – but in doing so, he found himself out in the open. The next thing he knew the bottom of Lilly's staff came crashing into his face! The elf reeled from the blow and was sent staggering backwards. But he wasn't allowed time to recover: Next thing he knew, the priestess drove her staff into his ribs, inspiring a sickening crack. The elf went flying into the wall with a groan.

He didn't feel the staff smashing into his skull.

And at the other end of the room, Torestorm found himself facing the remaining elf.

"The Outcast himself" the elf mocked "I've heard much about you. Let's see if the legend is as exactly what the stories claim!"

"All that and more" Torestorm retorted.

And with that, he launched himself into the air. He descended down in the elf's direction, intent to knock him off his feet with the impact.

There was only one problem: The Dark Elf was too quick: Acting quickly, he merely stepped aside, thus enabling the Outcast to come crashing down on the floor face first.

"Pathetic" the Dark Elf sneered.

He turned, blade in hand, ready to strike the elf whilst he was down.

But the blow never came: All of a sudden, the elf was struck on the back of the head – and such was the force of the blow that he collapsed to the floor.

Lilly, with staff in hand, grinned.

"You should watch your back my friend" she declared.

* * *

The door flew open, forced by impact of Torestorm's foot. Beyond it lay a room of brick and stone, fashioned in a way to resemble an arena.

And in the middle was a familiar sight: The elf leader, once again clad in full armour. But he wasn't alone: At his side was another elf.

"You again!" the elf leader barked "Somehow, I'm not surprised."

"Really?" Torestorm grinned "What are you going to do? Run away again?"

"Not likely" the elf retorted "I am Calarion and I slay all who dare oppose me. Which would include you, _Outcast_."

The mercenaries all exchanged glances.

"Friend of yours?" Lilly inquired.

"Not likely!" Torestorm replied. And with that, he drew his twin blades and charged straight for Calarion. Dimitri followed, axe at the ready to deal with the other elf.

Calarion drew his sword and held it forth to parry Torestorm. Sparks flew as the blades made contact. The Outcast fixed his opponent with a hardened gaze – and there he saw an opponent who was finally an equal. One who too had lived for many years and slew many a foe.

"There's a prize on your head in Naggaroth" Calarion spat.

"Somehow" Torestorm retorted "I'm not surprised."

"And it shall be me who will claim it!"

And with that, Calarion struck his foot out, kicking Torestorm. The foot made contact and sent the elf backwards.

The Outcast staggered backwards and blinked. Then his gaze hardened and charged a second time.

"You've got to do better than that!" he shouted.

Meanwhile, the other elf dealt a blow to Dimitri: he thrust his sword forward. The bounty hunter responded by dodging it. Reaching out, Dimitri grabbed the Dark elf through a fistful of his tunic. Then, using all his might, the Kislevite threw him off his feet.

The elf came crashing down onto the floor. He groaned as pain cruised through his body – but it wasn't over yet: Next thing he knew, a massive booted foot came crashing down onto his neck.

And crushed his windpipe.

And at the other end of the room, Calarion and the Torestorm exchanged blow after blow. Neither was able to gain the upper hand as they seemed evenly matched. Neither could penetrate the other's armour.

"You're a worthy opponent indeed" Calarion growled "Seems the stories were indeed true. Just think: I'm going to get a handsome reward indeed with your head!"

"Think again!"

And with that, the Outcast launched himself at Calarion. The Outcast tackled the captain and brought him crashing down to the ground.

"Dimitri!" Torestorm shouted.

And as the Outcast kept the Dark elf pinned, Dimitri hurried over with his axe. In one swoop, he brought it down on Calarion's neck. The axe smashed through flesh and bone, severing the neck from the rest of the body.

Torestorm got to his feet, breathing heavily – it was over.

He got to his feet and turned to Dimitri.

"Thanks" he said.

The Kislevite nodded in response.

"So is it over?" Lilly asked "Would that be all of them?'

"I would think so" the Outcast replied "We've killed their leader for one thing. And as is my understanding, this group of bandits was a small one.

"As such, I doubt they'd rise again from this blow."

Just then, he noticed something sparkle – there on Calarion's wrist, was a golden bracelet. It bore signs of elven craftsmanship – but not the corruption that the Dark Elves are noted for.

Intrigued, the Outcast reached down and pried it from the Dark Elf's wrist.

Then he looked up and saw Lilly fingering through a book.

"Where'd you get that?" the elf inquired.

"Found it right here" the priestess said "You may be interested in it."

"Why?" Torestorm asked "What does it say?"

"Don't know" came the reply "It's in elvish."

* * *

By the time, the mercenaries made their way back to the entrance, night had already fallen. Torestorm then decided that they make camp in the bastion itself.

Throughout the night, the elf studied the book.

"So what's the book about?' Lilly asked at one point.

"It's a journal" the Outcast replied "Seems Calarion was quite intent on chronicling his adventures."

"Good reading?" the priestess inquired.

"It would appear he'd quite a tale to tell" Torestorm said "Seems he was once an elven soldier who displayed an insubordinate streak. He disobeyed his commander and as a result, he was banished.

"With nowhere to go, Calarion found refuge with the Dark Elves. He was welcomed in and was inducted into the ranks of the corsairs."

"Treacherous…" Lilly breathed.

Torestorm frowned but said nothing.

A brief pause followed before Lilly cleared her throat.

"Then what happened?"

"According to this the Druchii ship he was on entered Bretonnian waters" Torestorm went on "And it was subsequently sunk by the fleets. Calarion however managed to escape and made his way to shore with a handful of followers. This led him to resort to raiding under the name of the Bitterwind Rose.

"Now this looks interesting" Torestorm said suddenly.

"What is it?"

"There's a map here" the elf replied jabbing his finger at a page "It's a map of an island!"

Lilly leaned over for a look.

"Sartosa" she read out.

"And look here" the Outcast then said "There's a location marked out on it.

"….It seems to be a Dwarven hold…."


	10. Bitter and Twisted: Mercenary

**Bitter and Twisted**

**IV**

**Mercenary**

The elf made her way through the bustling streets of Weissbruck.

She was dressed in travelling leathers complimented by blue leggings. Slung over her back was a crossbow bearing signs of expert elvish craftsmanship. From her hip was a sword resting in a scabbard covered with intricate designs. And from her head was a cascade of thick blonde hair.

The elf made her way down the street, her mind busy on her next move. It was more accident than design that she was here in this human settlement: The elf was journeying to find some degree of work.

She was a mercenary by nature and she had currently run out of gold coin. Thus, the elf chanced upon this settlement – Weissbruck was it called? – in the pursuit of finding funds for her journey.

Since arriving here, she had heard whispered talk that there was an Orc encampment nearby. And there was a threat of a Chaos cult as well. Thus, this seemed like the ideal place for a mercenary to put their sword to trade…

The elf could feel one or two eyes following her as she made her way through the streets. She was however, far from worried: No doubt it was the human eyes having never been accustomed to see a female elf before.

Not that she minded….

Eventually, the elf's eye caught sight of a tavern: The sign outside proclaimed itself to be the Howling Gryphon.

The elf blinked at the tavern – Might be a good place to start….

* * *

Walter blinked at the woman who had just entered. It wasn't unusual to see a woman come into the tavern – but this one looked…

…different.

This woman had a grace about her far removed from the humans he served day in day out. She had a beauty that looked like it was from another world – glorious one minute but alien the next.

Somehow, this newcomer reminded him of Torestorm…

Walter blinked again as revelation hit – So this is an elven woman?

Damn…..

In spite of his awe, the bartender managed to keep his head together as the elf approached.

"Can I help you?" Walter asked.

"Yes you can" the woman replied "I have heard that this town is in need of mercenaries and I'm keen to lend my skills."

"Well you heard correctly" the bartender replied "You may be interested to know that there is a band of mercenaries who operate out of this place…."

"Really?" the elf asked, leaning forward and smiling a seductive smile "Think there might be room for one more in their ranks?"

Walter blinked in unease before swallowing.

"You would have to take that up with their leader. When he returns that is….."

"And when will that be?"

"I think …they'll be back this evening…"

"That's fine" the elf smiled "I can wait…"

And with that, she turned and headed back out of the tavern, hips swaying with each step.

* * *

Torestorm gazed upwards – towards the forest canopy through to the grey sky. All around he could feel was the cool air of the morning.

All around was a soft mist, encasing everything in grey. The sun was on the rise and, for now, the darkness of night was on the move for another day.

The Outcast paused – pausing to breathe in the morning air. His human allies were still asleep which gave him time to reflect.

Just then, his elven ears detected the sound of footsteps approaching from behind. But he didn't move a muscle. He knew who it was.

The elf cleared his throat.

"One of my allies has been killed" he said.

Saraielle's face grew with shock.

"Torestorm" she said gently "I'm so sorry…."

"It was the dwarf Gognak" the Outcast went on.

"He was the one who got you into the Starlight Guardians yes?"

"The same"

"What happened?"

"He was murdered" Torestorm explained "Someone attacked him outside the tavern in Weissbruck and killed him. The human Watch are trying to track down this murderer but no progress has been made."

"I see….." Saraielle said.

Torestorm sighed heavily.

"I take it he was a major influence in your life?" the bard inquired.

Torestorm nodded.

It wasn't the first time that the elf had an ally die underneath him but there was no denying the dwarf had done a lot for him: he had got him in touch with Althion, granted him access to the Starlight Guardians and, in spite of his gruff and coarse attitude, shared the similar goals of combating the many evils in this world. The dwarf had been a major guiding force in his life and now…

….he was gone.

In his many years of existence, many had fallen beside Torestorm whilst he kept on going. It was a price that came with living a life that lasted centuries.

"I have lived a long life already" the Outcast said to the bard "I have seen many friends, elf and human alike, fall and their faces remained emblazoned in my memory for years afterward.

"Alongside the faces of the many foes I've killed."

"It certainly is a miserable existence indeed, fighting the forces of darkness" Saraielle noted.

Torestorm said nothing.

"You could turn away from it if you wanted to" the bard added.

"And do what?" the Outcast snapped back "Live a normal life? It's hard to do when the forces of evil never rest."

The bard sighed heavily and turned away.

* * *

"So where've you been?" Jarek asked.

"I could ask you the same question!" Torestorm retorted sharply.

"I was asked to do a little job"

"By who?" Dimitri growled.

"The Merchant's Guild" the Tomb Raider replied.

Dimitri and Torestorm exchanged suspicious glances.

The journey back to Weissbruck had proven uneventful: The elf, the bounty hunter and the priestess arrived late the night before - however unchallenged. Along the way, Torestorm studied the diary of Calarion intently, trying to grasp what it was that the Bitterwind Rose were planning.

Upon arrival at the Howling Gryphon, the elf, the bounty and the priestess were greeted by Jarek. And it was around their familiar table in the tavern that the four mercenaries pondered their next move.

"So back to my original question" Jarek then said "Where did you go? Back to that cavern?"

"Yes" the Outcast answered.

"We found a diary" Lilly added.

"Really?" Jarek said "What does it say?"

"It's written in elvish" the outcast explained as the three humans leaned in closer "And it would appear that the Dark Elves of the Bitterwind Rose are planning something involving the pirate colony of Sartosa."

"What type of plans?" Lilly asked.

"Judging from the text, it would appear they are after something called the Shimmering Gate" Torestorm went on.

"And what is that exactly?" Jarek asked.

"The text doesn't seem to say" the elf answered "But it would seem to require a key of some kind"

The four mercenaries paused to exchange glances.

"So what do we do now?" the priestess suddenly asked.

"What can we do?" the elf answered "We need to return to that bastion"

"Again?" Jarek burst out.

"Yes again!" Torestorm replied sharply.

"But that elven criminal is dead!" Jarek protested

"True" the elf retorted "But he must've known something. And if he managed to escape us once before then there must be a secret door in that cavern.

"And if we find it, we can find just what he was up to"

"And then what?' Jarek asked "We go after this Shimmering Gate?"

"Precisely"

"Really?" the Tomb Raider said "Correct me if I'm wrong but that diary said we needed a key! Where are we going to find that?"

"Well I…." Torestorm began before being interrupted.

The interruption came in the form of Walter approaching the table, a tray of drinks in hand.

"Good hunting this time?" he said, setting the tray down. Immediately four hands each found their respective drinks.

As the outcast grasped a goblet of wine, the bartender leaned forward.

"Someone was asking about you earlier this morning" he said to the elf.

"I can imagine they were Walter" Torestorm replied nonchalantly "Who was it?"

"Don't know" came the reply "They wore a heavy cloak but they had the voice of a man. He looked about your height"

Upon hearing this, the elf's eyes hardened.

"He left a note for you" Walter went on, producing a folded piece of paper "He asked me to give it to you"

Torestorm took the piece of paper and opened it up. His eyes scanned the paper and grow increasingly hardened.

"What is it?' Lilly asked.

"Family business" the elf replied softly.

Then he got to his feet and, without another word, he strode away.

* * *

Later that evening, Torestorm sat alone at the table, his eyes studying the note for a second time and his eyes heavy. The rest of the tavern was otherwise empty.

The note brought no good news: the elf studied again, only this time with a wariness about him: A wariness usually associated with a criminal on constant run from the law.

Just then, he looked up to see a familiar face approach.

"You asked to see me?" Dimitri inquired.

"Yes I did" the elf replied "Take a seat."

The Kislevite sat down opposite the outcast.

"I may have a request of you" the elf said "I will not be present to lead the others back to the bastion. I want you to lead Jarek and Lilly in my place"

The bounty hunter locked the elf with a hardened gaze before eventually nodding.

"I will" he said "But where will you be?"

Torestorm sighed heavily.

"That man Walter described was an elf" the outcast explained, tapping the note with his finger "It seems he may have some information that may be of interest to me"

"What kind of information?"

"I'm after someone"

"I'm always after someone" Dimitri growled.

The outcast blinked before sighing.

"I have a son" he said softly "One who I have not seen in many years.

"I was separated from his mother when he was born. Instead, I was in Naggaroth fighting the Druchii. Thus he went through childhood and grew up as I was tortured and forced into serving the Druchii cause.

"I've wanted to meet my son for the longest time. I've travelled many leagues and have obtained every last scrap of information in order to find him."

The elf paused but then he blinked in surprise.

The bounty hunter was listening quite intently, his normally stern face softening.

"What will you do when you find him?" Dimitri asked.

"I want greet him as a father to son"

A silence descended down upon the two warriors.

"It would seem we have a common goal" the Kislevite said suddenly.

"What do you mean?"

Dimitri opened his mouth – but before he could say anything, he was interrupted.

"Pardon me" said a voice

The two mercenaries looked up to see Walter. Behind him was a she-elf, dressed in travelling leathers.

"What's the matter?" Torestorm asked.

"Seems stories are being told of your exploits" the bartender said "And someone would like to speak to you about it"

The elf stepped forward.

Torestorm raised an eyebrow at the elvish mercenary. Immediately, his eye recognised the distinctive features of his race. And at the same time, he also noticed signs of wear on her clothes and muscles on the hand built up from sword usage – all indications of a life lived on the road.

Dimitri however appeared unmoved.

"I would like to join you" the elf said with utmost confidence.

Torestorm looked to Dimitri – who merely shrugged.

"How did you hear of us?" the outcast inquired.

"Just arrived in town and heard of a mercenary band" the elf said "Thought you could do with an extra sword-arm"

"Well, I think we may have an opening" Torestorm said "One of our comrades recently fell in battle.

"What's your name?"

"Fanriel"

"Experience?"

"Trained with the elven clan the Shadow Kindred" the elf named Fanriel replied "And several years of mercenary work"

"Reason for joining?" Torestorm then asked.

"I need the money!"

"I guess that's as good a reason as any" Torestorm shrugged.

* * *

And so, when the morning came, there were three at the gates of the Weissbruck.

"Who's your friend?" Jarek asked Dimitri.

"New recruit" came the reply.

"Fanriel" the elf said, hand outstretched in greeting.

Jarek answered the handshake before turning to the Kislevite.

"So where's Torestorm then?"

"He has been summoned elsewhere"

"By who?"

"Private matter" the bounty answered sharply "Where's Lilly?"

"At the temple of Shallya" Jarek answered "Seems they need some extra hands for the time being."

Dimitri frowned.

"And who's Lilly?" Fanriel asked.

"She's with us" Jarek answered "Our source of healing"

"So then what?" the elf asked "You're going on without her?"

"We are" Dimitri said bluntly.

And with that, he turned and headed out into the wilderness.

Jarek blinked before frowning.

"Here we go again" he muttered as he followed the bounty hunter.

Fanriel blinked at her new found allies. It wasn't the first time she found herself working in a partnership – and it certainly wasn't the first time she found herself wondering what on earth she'd gotten herself in for.

With a sigh, she set off after the humans.

And as she set off into the wilderness, she could feel a soft chill drift through her.

"Winter must be coming…" she muttered.

* * *

And once again, Dimitri and Jarek found themselves at the abandoned Dwarven bastion.

"Welcome back" the Tomb Raider muttered.

"Been here before huh?" Fanriel asked.

"We did" Jarek explained "Fought some elves here…

"…..Dark elves!" he quickly followed up.

Fanriel blinked.

"So why are we back here?" the elf asked.

"Seems those Dark Elves have been hiding something from us"

"Yes? What?"

"That's exactly what we want to find out" the bounty hunter said.

The two warriors, along with their new-found ally stood in the cavern where they had previously faced Calarion and the Wights. In the time since that encounter, the place appeared to be completely unchanged. Everything seemed undisturbed and even evidence from the battle before was well and truly still present.

"There must be a secret door here" the Kislevite said "And I want it found!"

And with this command, the three adventurers spread out across the cavern. They went to the walls and began running their fingers across the rocky walls and stalactites. The three mercenaries looked into every possible avenue that may suggest a secret exit.

For a while, nothing was found and then a shout came from the Tomb Raider.

"Hey look!" Jarek suddenly exclaimed "I think I may have found it!"

Dimitri and Fanriel hurried over to his side. There, they found Jarek kneeling down and brushing away some of the sand off the cavern floor.

To reveal a trapdoor.

"Well, if this isn't a secret door I don't know what is" the Tomb Raider proclaimed.

"Think our man went down there?" the elf asked the Bounty Hunter.

"Only one way to find out" Dimitri replied as he reached down and grasped the door handle.

It opened easily.

* * *

The trio found themselves in another cavern. Before them, stood an object of massive size. It was fashioned in a rectangular shape, bordered with carvings of dragons, bearing teeth, wicked claws and spread wings. It was unclear what the carvings were constructed out of but it was an impressive sight nonetheless. And at either side, was an outstretched claw with the palm facing upwards, as if in offering.

And in the middle of the object was an empty space.

"I have never seen anything like this before" Jarek breathed "How about you?"

"Can't say that I have" Fanriel replied "What on earth is it?

"One would think it's a doorway of some kind"

The Tomb raider moved closer to the carvings, his treasure-hunting eye fixed on the outstretched palms. Slowly he moved his fingers to touch it.

"Are you certain you should be touching that?" Fanriel asked.

"To be honest" Jarek replied "No."

"Wait a minute" he then said "There are some indentations here."

"Meaning?" Dimitri demanded.

"Meaning these carvings were designed to have something placed within them."

"So?" Fanriel asked.

"So we go find these items" Dimitri said "And we use them to find out just what this thing does….."

Before the mercenaries stood an open door- one that led into room boasting a panelled floor. All the panels were coloured red except one: A gold panel located in the direct centre.

Further up the corridor rested a barrel.

"What do you think this is?" Fanriel asked.

"This looks suspicious indeed" Jarek murmured "It stinks of a trap"

"You know traps" Dimitri asked the tomb raider "Seen something like this before?"

"Can't say that I have" came the reply "But I wouldn't trust that gold panel…"

Dimitri paused.

"Wait here" he then said. Treading slowly, he made his way into the room. He stepped slowly onto the first panel…..

Suddenly, without warning an enormous slab of rock came crashing down behind him! The bounty hunter spun around just in time to see his comrades disappear behind a mass of grey. His eyes grew wide of alarm as he quickly realised he'd been sealed inside the room.

Fanriel and Jarek blinked in surprise and horror at what had just happened.

"What happened?" the elf demanded.

"I don't know!" Jarek yelled back "It came out of nowhere!"

"Dimitri!" Fanriel shouted "Can you hear us? Are you all right?"

But the Kislevite couldn't hear such words. Instead, he gazed up at the slab trying to comprehend what had happened and whether there was a way out.

He hammered the slab with his fists but it wasn't the type of stone that budged easily.

"What do we do?" Fanriel demanded to the tomb raider.

"How the hell should I know?" Jarek snapped back.

"We can't leave him trapped in there!" the elf insisted.

The two mercenaries looked at each other only to see an equally helpless face staring back.

"You'd need explosives to shift a rock this big" Jarek groaned.

"What, in here?" Fanriel finished "You'll bury us all alive!"

"Got a pick axe then?" the tomb raider grinned sardonically.

Back in the room, the Kislevite was deep in thought – the enormity of the situation, not to mention the prospects of being entombed alive were slowly sinking in. In the dim light of his lantern, he struggled to see anything of value.

He could find nothing – apart from himself, the room was otherwise empty.

Except for the golden floor panel.

With a sigh of hopelessness, the bounty hunter made his way over to the panel…

As his boot trod onto the panel, it sank underneath him. Raising an eyebrow, the bounty hunter put both feet onto the panel and stood upon it.

And then, the panel sank down past the floor and triggered the sound of a small click. Suddenly, the rock shuddered and slowly rose up from the doorway.

Fanriel and Jarek peered into the now unsealed room blinking in astonishment.

"Are you all right?" Fanriel asked.

"What happened?" Jarek inquired.

"The door is a trap" Dimitri noted "It seems that the slab will come down when pressure is released from the gold panel here."

"So looks like you're stuck there' Jarek noted "Unless that plate can be weighed down"

"Wait!" Fanriel said, snapping her fingers "That barrel! It might do it!"

The elf ran over and opened the barrel. It revealed itself to be half full of small rocks.

"This just might do the job"

Through a combination of their efforts, Fanriel, and Jarek, proceeded to shift the barrel over into the room.

"You think this going to work?" the tomb raider huffed.

"Just shut up and push!" the elf snapped back.

With care, the barrel was placed on the panel where Dimitri was standing.

The bounty hunter stood off the plate and the barrel was slid into his place. The plate went down and the slab stayed up.

"Crisis averted" Fanriel grinned.

"Good thinking" the bounty hunter noted.

"And next time" Jarek grinned "Leave the finding of traps to the expert!"

"If you say so" the elf said "Better such traps kill you than the rest of us!"

* * *

Three skeletons approached the warriors, leering at them with unseeing eyes.

Fanriel however did not show one trace of fear across her face. Instead, she calmly unslung her crossbow off her back.

"All right then" she said, loading her weapon "Who'd like to be first?"

When she received no reply, Fanriel fired her crossbow

The bolt sailed through the air and struck the nearest skeleton. The projectile plunged through the skeleton's bones smashing them as they went and leaving them brittle. The skeleton staggered backwards by the force of the bolt and collapsed into a heap.

Dimitri ever ready with his own crossbow, too fired a bolt. It slammed into one of the other skeletons, knocking him off his feet and sending him sprawling. The skeleton struggled to it's feet – but the bounty hunter rushed over to beat him to it. And with a sharp, lethal kick from his boot, Dimitri smashed apart the skull.

This left the last skeleton in the hands of Jarek. Gritting his teeth, the tomb raider looked at his sword. In an instant, he realised that a sharp blade would have little effect on pure bone. Thinking quickly, he decided to resort to another weapon he had at his disposal.

His fists.

With a mighty swing, the tomb raider dealt a lethal uppercut into the skeleton's rib cage. The impact of the blow was nasty to say the least, but only to Jarek. He grimaced as pain most incredible ripped through his body but, in spite of it all, he gritted his teeth. The skeleton grinned back in blank, but still mocking, fashion.

With a roar, Jarek kicked out his foot to the skeleton's pelvis. This time the blow was successful: The skeleton wobbled backwards, thrown off balance. This gave the tomb raider the perfect opportunity to strike back.

And he did by grasping the skull – before ripping it completely from the body.

This in turn sent the rest of skeleton crumbling to the floor.

Victorious, Jarek breathed heavily as Fanriel grinned.

"Nice move there" she said.

"You don't fight too badly yourself" the tomb raider answered.

The elf paused and then her sharpened elven eyes caught sight of something: There, lying in amongst the bones was something shining. Leaning down, she dug through the bones.

"What are you doing?" Jarek asked.

"I thought I saw something here…"

And then, she saw it: set deep within the flagstones, was a small black diamond. Fanriel, tugged at it and, much to her surprise, it came out with ease.

The elf paused to examine this new discovery: She had never seen a black diamond such as this one before.

"What is it?" Jarek asked.

"I think this may be the answer to the gateway problem" the elf said.

"You actually think this may be the key that the carvings need?"

"It's the best lead we have" Dimitri noted.

"It's the only lead we have" Jarek added.

"We can only try…" the Kislevite said softly.

* * *

And so the three warriors made their way back to the cavern where the carvings rested.

But this time they weren't alone: The three warriors arrived just in time to see a man hidden by a heavy dark cloak standing between them and the carving.

And at his side was a quartet of wights.

"You there!" Jarek called out "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

"You!" the man snapped back.

And without another word, he hurried over to the carving. In his hand was a darkened diamond, exactly like the one Fanriel found.

"What's he doing?" the elf demanded.

The man slammed the diamond into one of the carved palms – and suddenly the empty space contained in the carving lit up! A small explosion burst from the carving, sending the room shuddering.

But with the explosion came something unexpected: Where was once an empty space was now a pool of blue light.

"What the hell?" Jarek growled.

"That wasn't just any carving!" Fanriel exclaimed "It's some kind of gateway!"

"Correct" the man sneered.

And to prove it, the man dived straight into the pool of light. Seconds later, the pool of light evaporated – leaving nothing in its wake. The man had disappeared completely.

But not without leaving his wight guardians behind.

The four wights glared with sightless eyes at the three intruders. Gripping their rusted weapons, and compelled by the powers of the darkest of magic, they began to advance. With movements slow and a comprehension that could only be alien, the four undead monstrosities advanced.

"Fought any of these before?" Jarek asked Fanriel

"Can't say that I have" the elf replied "But…."

"But what?" Dimitri demanded.

"I know for a fact that sharpened weapons will have little effect on the undead!"

"Meaning?"

"Your axe may be useless against these fiends" Fanriel noted "And we may need to find another way to stop them"

"You don't say…" Jarek said, producing a small salve of liquid from his belt. Pulling forth the stopper, he then flung it towards the advancing undead. The salve sailed through the air, spilling the contents as it went – And finally, it came crashing down upon the wights. The salve smashed into pieces, sending the liquid onto two of the undead.

"What the…" Fanriel started.

"Just watch" Jarek grinned kneeling down with his lantern in hand. Slowly he lowered his lantern as close as possible to the liquid.

And then, without warning, the flame from the lantern ignited the liquid. A jet of flame burst forth across the floor – it went up along the trial left by the salve and roared towards the Wights.

Within seconds, the Wights were engulfed in flame. They screamed hollow screams as the flames ate at their bones and armour, eventually sending them face down onto the floor below.

Jarek turned and grinned in triumphant fashion.

"Fuel for my lantern" he explained

Dimitri nodded before unslinging his crossbow.

And without a further moment's hesitation, he fired at the remaining wights.

The bolt smashed into the skull of the nearest wight. It struck with so much force and within such a short range that the skull was severed from the rest of the body. The skull came crashing down to the floor as the wight crumbled lifelessly to the floor.

Fanriel blinked before loading up a bolt in her own crossbow. Then, in the blink of an eye, she fired. The bolt slammed into the second wight – smashing rotted armour and bone as it went.

And with that, the last undead in the room fell to the floor.

This left the three mercenaries with the carvings.

"So what do we do now?" Jarek asked.

Dimitri said nothing but looked towards the carvings.

"What on earth is that thing?" the tomb raider asked.

"You tell me" the Kislevite retorted.

"I have no idea!" Jarek spluttered "I have never seen anything like this before in my life!"

"Same here" Fanriel chimed in "But I'm certain it must be some kind of gateway"

"It's possible" Jarek said "It may explain where that strange fellow disappeared to"

"You really think that?" Dimitri asked.

"At this point, I'm willing to accept anything as possible!"

"If this is a gateway" Fanriel mused "I wonder where it goes?

"Only one way to find out!"

And with that, the elf placed the black diamond into the other outstretched palm.

And as before, the empty space contained in the carving lit up to reveal a pool of blue light.

The elf turned to the humans and smiled.

"See you on the other side" she said – before stepping into the portal.

Dimitri turned to Jarek.

"Oh no!" the tomb raider exclaimed "I'm not going in there!"

"Zatk`nis!" the Kislevite growled back.

And with that, the big man grabbed the tomb raider by the front of his shirt.

"What are you doing?" Jarek yelled.

But Dimitri wasn't listening. Instead he marched towards the still-open gateway with the tomb raider kept in a tight grip.

"I'm not trusting this magic!" An increasingly frantic Jarek yelled.

But the Kislevite marched onward – approaching the gateway he stepped through…..


	11. Bitter and Twisted: Hunter's Foe

**Bitter and Twisted**

**V**

**Hunter's Foe**

"I'm afraid I have to leave"

Saraielle's fingers immediately came to a halt on the strings of her instrument. She looked up at the Outcast, a bewildered expression etched on her face.

"What do you mean?" she asked

"I have been informed on someone I'm seeking" Torestorm explained "Seems they're within close proximity to Weissbruck."

"And who would this person be?" the bard asked.

The Outcast hesitated. When she received no answer, Saraielle's eyes narrowed.

The two elves were situated in their familiar meeting place looking over Weissbruck. They both rested against separate trees: Torestorm leant against his whilst Saraielle sat at the trunk of hers. Already the day was ending with dusk settling its way in.

"He is….." the Outcast said eventually "…my son"

Saraielle's eyes widened.

This was not a reply she was expecting.

"Y-You have a son?" she said, words tumbling from her mouth in shock and disbelief "Really?"

Torestorm nodded solemnly.

"I….I had no idea" the bard blurted out.

It seemed a stupid thing to say but it was all she could think of.

But if the Outcast was bothered he didn't show any signs of it.

"I had sired a son when I was in Ulthuan" he said in slow and measured tones "It has been nearly a century since I last saw him.

"I had no idea he was still alive"

"Does your son have a name?" Saraielle asked.

"Ruthenis"

The bard blinked. This revelation was indeed a surprise – and not one she was expecting. Because to be a son, one would also require a mother….

She immediately pushed such thoughts to the back of her mind

"So what will you do now?" she asked.

"I have been informed that Ruthenis has been seen some distance out of Weissbruck" the Outcast replied.

"Who told you this?"

Torestorm hesitated.

"An informant" he eventually said in all bluntness.

Saraielle blinked – having spent much time in the wilderness, she surely would've known if an elf approached Weissbruck…

But she continued on:

"What will you do when you meet him?"

"I will embrace him as any father would any son" Torestorm said, his words brimming with utmost confident.

"You honestly think it'll be that easy?" Saraielle asked, her voice growing with cautiousness "I doubt your son would be easy to forgive several decades worth of absence."

"I can only try" the Outcast said solemnly.

A silence descended upon the elves.

Eventually, Saraielle got to her feet.

"If that is what you want" she said gently "Then I will accompany you"

Torestorm's eyes widened in surprise.

'I will go with you to meet Ruthenis" Saraielle went on "And I'll support you every step of the way"

The Outcast paused before nodding his consent, a small smile making its way across his face.

Just then, he stiffened.

"What?" Saraielle asked.

Torestorm didn't reply – instead he indicated past the bard.

Saraielle flicked her head around – to see a small mound of white ice.

The elves looked up to the sky in surprise.

It had begun to snow….

* * *

Dimitri came crashing down face first on the floor before him. He groaned as pain cruised through his body.

He was certainly wasn't expecting that…..

Slowly the bounty hunter's senses struggled to make sense of what was around him: His fingers could make out some well-used sandstone. Before him, Dimitri could make out some kind of room.

Unfortunately, before he could go any further, Dimitri could feel something come crashing down alongside him.

"By Sigmar" groaned a voice "What the hell was that?"

"Zatk`nis…" the Kislevite groaned back.

"Aha!" said a voice "So glad you both decided to join me"

The two humans looked up to see Fanriel, lantern in hand.

"How long have you been here?" Jarek managed to utter.

"Not very" came the reply as the elf moved to the humans.

"I've only been here a few scant minutes" Fanriel explained as she helped the two humans back onto their feet.

"So where is here?' Jarek replied.

"Your guess is as good as mine"

Slowly the mercenaries became aware of their surroundings: They were indeed in a room built from sandstone. Behind them stood a gateway exactly like the one they had stepped through: It was a rectangular shape, housing what resembled a pool of blue light and bordered with carvings of dragons, bearing teeth, wicked claws and spread wings. And at either side, was an outstretched claw with the palm facing upwards, as if in offering.

"I think it's fair to say that was indeed a gateway we went through" the elf said brightly.

"So where is here anyway?" the tomb raider demanded.

"Somewhere in Sartosa if that map is to be believed"

"Somehow" Jarek said "This doesn't look like a pirate colony to me…"

* * *

"Do you have any idea where we're going?" Jarek asked.

"I don't see you offering any suggestions!" Fanriel shot back.

Behind the warriors was the room containing the gateway. A passageway stretched out before them, another one to their left and a third to their right. All three passageways looked alike boasting walls constructed from sandstone and strange golden runes dotted along them.

Aside from these details, there were no clues whatsoever as to which path the correct one to take was.

An obvious indication of a maze.

"I'd figured you'd have some idea of what to do here" the elf continued "Seeing as you're a tomb raider."

"What's that supposed to mean?'

"Surely you would've been in this type of situation before"

"Well I guess that there is a grain of truth there…." Jarek mused.

"Great!" Fanriel grinned "Lead on!"

Jarek blinked – before stepping forward. With not much to go on from, his tomb-raiding instincts urged him forward to examine the runes.

Looking closely, his brow furrowed: These runes looked completely unfamiliar, unlike anything he had seen before. They seemed to be implanted into the sandstone, and filled with a yellow, glowing and ultimately unrecognisable substance.

"Those runes look familiar?" the elf asked.

"Can't say they do…" Jarek murmured.

He reached forward and tapped one gently. And then, the rune responded with the rune's glow flickering from light to darkness. This flickering lasted a few short seconds before the glow resumed.

"See anything?" Fanriel asked.

The tomb raider paused and looked around.

And then he saw it.

There, at the end of the left passage, was a door. Jarek's dark-trained eyes picked it out in amongst the gloom

"Over there!" he said "A door!"

Guided by this revelation he made his way over, as the elf and the bounty hunter followed.

"Think this may lead somewhere?" Fanriel asked.

"Got any better ideas?" Jarek retorted.

And with that, he tried the door handle – it was unlocked.

Opening the door revealed a small room. Like the outside it yielded sandstone walls but these seemed rougher than compared to those outside. The room was empty save for a small plinth where upon a small golden statue sat. The golden statue was no bigger than a human forearm and was crafted in a shape that resembled that of a Bretonnian Knight.

Jarek grinned with eager anticipation.

"A treasure left here all alone?" he grinned "Better claim it before it falls into the wrong hands!

"I bet the Bretonnian nobility would pay handsomely to get this back!"

He began moving towards it but Dimitri grabbed his arm.

"If that is indeed a Bretonnian artefact" he said in a voice full of caution "Then what's it doing here when that realm has so many knights willing to get themselves killed in the name of honour?"

"So what?"

"If a Bretonnian artefact is here" the Kislevite went on "A knight would've already been here and gone"

"Their loss!" Jarek snapped, breaking free from the bounty hunter's grip. He then moved to the plinth and reached out for the golden statue.

"Look!" Fanriel suddenly shouted "Up there!"

And there, descending from up above, as a huge spider. It was black in colour and grotesque in appearance. It came crawling down the wall and with the Tomb Raider locked in the sight of all of its eight eyes.

"Shit!" Jarek shouted. His expression growing with alarm, the tomb raider grabbed the artefact from the plinth and turned for the door.

But in removing the artefact, Jarek activated a small click: He turned just in time see a great stone slab rising up from the floor.

One that looked set to separate him from Fanriel, Dimitri and freedom.

"What the hell?" the elf shouted, before looking to see Jarek, his face equally alarmed.

"Wait!" he shrieked "Don't leave me!"

The tomb raider reached for his comrades but he was too late: The slab moved up so quickly, it gave both him and the other Reavers little time to react. There was little Jarek could do to stop his fellow mercenaries disappear from view.

Forever.

Helpless Jarek stared at the slab….

…and upwards into the eyes of the giant spider.…..

* * *

The elf breathed heavily, her face pale with shock.

As well as the thought of a fallen comrade.

"What do we do now?" she asked Dimitri.

The two warriors were standing in the sandstone passageway. In front of them was a darkened passage. Behind them was a mass of immovable rock.

And the thought of Jarek.

"We press on" Dimitri said.

"But Jarek…."

"We keep moving forward" Dimitri said sternly "There is never backwards –only forwards"

"But…."

But the Kislevite said nothing. Instead he turned and began heading into the darkness.

"How can you be so callous?" Fanriel growled.

The bounty hunter stopped but he kept his gaze fixed forward.

"I have seen many people die under me" he said "They fell as I kept going.

"It's part of being a warrior for hire."

And with that he continued on.

* * *

Elsewhere, Rasandra was looking toward the moonlight sky, her facial expression one of pain and loss.

It was true: She was the last one left. Her comrades in the Bitterwind Rose had all been defeated. Calarion and all the others had all been killed by the meddling Dragonfire Reavers (or whatever they were called).

In theory this loss shouldn't be of too much concern: She was a mercenary and her loyalty was to the coin. She was glad to go along with whatever Calarion paid her to do and to do the missions that no other cultist in Zharradan's cult would have the gall to do.

Thus shouldn't have bothered Rasandra that she was playing off both sides just for the sake of both self-preservation and as making as much gold as possible.

But in a way it did bother her: The Bitterwind Rose were elves – her comrades and her kin. It was the elves whom Rasandra travelled with on the Black Ark from Naggaroth. It was the elves whom she had a sense of company from being isolated within the Old World. And it was the elves whom she killed alongside with, ate alongside with and survived alongside with.

True Rasandra volunteered for the task of ruining the cult's plans from the inside but it was a dangerous, not to mention foolhardy, mission trying to outsmart the followers of the Great Schemer himself. Thus, in order to pull it off any sense of loyalty had to be discarded. Paranoia took over where once was a sense of comradeship to her kin.

But now the elves of the Bitterwind Rose were now dead. This of course left Rasandra in the rather precarious position of what to do now: She now had no reason to continue spying on the cultists but, at the same time, nowhere left to go.

And it won't take long before the cult becomes aware of the wrongs she has done against them.

And no doubt extract revenge…

Suddenly, the assassin heard a noise behind her.

Rasandra flicked her head around to see Konrad approach…

* * *

"So do you think this is really Sartosa?" the elf asked "For all we know, that gateway could've sent us anywhere"

Dimitri said nothing.

The two warriors made their way down a dusty passageway. Before them, the route was lit by many of the strange glowing runes.

"I don't know about you" Fanriel went on "But this doesn't look like anything like a pirate hideout to me"

"And you'd know how?" Dimitri asked sharply.

"I've been in a few" Fanriel said

Immediately, Dimitri stopped and fixed the elf with an accusing gaze.

"I was once paid to go into one to obtain intelligence!" she said quickly.

The Kislevite frowned.

"These passageways look ancient" Fanriel said, eager to change to subject.

The bounty hunter nodded in agreement.

"You don't suppose the pirates built over it?" she then asked "Completely unaware of their existence?"

The bounty hunter nodded

"Well, it may that explain why they'd have such an artefact such as that gateway in their possession" Fanriel agreed.

Dimitri nodded again.

"Seen any runes like these?' the elf asked leaning in to examine the runes.

The Kislevite shook his head.

"Wonder how they glow…" Fanriel mused.

Dimitri coughed impatiently.

"So what do we do?" the elf asked.

"We find a way out of here" Dimitri said.

* * *

"Yes?" Rasandra asked.

"Back from Weissbruck I see" Konrad replied "Report!"

"I managed to find the man you described" the assassin explained "Exactly like you said he was. Fitted the description perfectly and seems to be quite dangerous"

"So do you have a name?"

"Dimitri Shandrikova" Rasandra answered "He seems to be a bounty hunter"

"Meaning he must be looking for someone" the cultist finished.

"And there's more" the elf went on "He seems to be affiliated with those mercenaries, the Dragonfire Reavers"

This piece of news caused Konrad to pause in thought. His brow furrowed in an unwelcome manner.

"The same mercenaries who killed off the Bitterwind Rose" he mused.

Upon hearing this, Rasandra's eyes hardened.

"Anything else?' the cultist then said.

"I encountered one of the Reavers by accident" she added "He tried to challenge me but didn't live long enough to regret it"

"One less to worry about then" Konrad said.

He then reached into his pocket and pulled out three gold coins. He flicked them in the elf's direction which she caught with one swift sweep of her hand.

"You've done well" he said "Carry on"

And with that he turned and walked away.

Rasandra gazed at the gold in her hand.

…..was it all worth it….?

* * *

The two warriors found themselves at a door.

"Think this could be the way out?" Fanriel asked.

Dimitri shrugged but said nothing.

The elf cast a brief look back over her shoulder: A trial of glowing runes lit up behind here. It was the only guide they had but it led them here.

Grasping the door handle, the bounty hunter flung it open.

Beyond the door lay a room filled with garbage: Around the floor were piles of scraps of armour and rusted weapons.

And in the middle of it all was a man – one whom turned to see who was entering the room.

The man boasted a well-crafted suit of armour and a brightly coloured tunic – the type that betrayed his status as a Bretonnian Knight. Yet, at the same time, he sported hair that was matted and a pair of eyes that radiated with a determination that could only be described as unnatural.

Upon seeing the Kislevite and the elf, he laughed.

"Ah, my cabbages, you've come at last! You see, I need the blood of the pure to open the gate. You, my black vegetables, will do nicely!"

Dimitri and Fanriel exchanged bewildered glances as the knight continued:

"Prepare your cooking ornaments and bequeath your garnishes!"

And with that, the knight drew forth a broadsword and advanced.

"What on earth?" the elf demanded.

The knight didn't reply – instead he swung his giant blade through the air with an ease forged from an early age.

"He's mad!" Fanriel said in alarm.

The bounty hunter nodded with the resignation of seeing one many times before.

Dimitri gripped his axe whilst the elf drew her blade…..

But then something happened that was completely unexpected: After a hefty swing, the knight then lowered his blade and turned away.

"What the….?" Fanriel started.

"Oh angels, I hear my dormice calling!" the knight shouted looking upwards "I must away, small chair legs, but remember, I, Grand King of Crowns and Bells, Phillipe de Lyonesse, will prevail over you! Chamber pots and dead leaves I go! I'm coming, oh angels!'

And with that, the knight named Phillipe de Lyonesse charged across the room and towards a door in the opposite wall. He flung it open and hurried through, slamming the door shut behind him.

This left the elf and the bounty hunter alone.

"So…" Fanriel started "What was that all about?"

Dimitri didn't reply. Instead he knelt down, seemingly drawn to something in the trash. He reached out a gloved hand and pulled out a scrap of paper.

"What is it?" the elf asked "See something?"

The bounty hunter studied it and then handed it to Fanriel.

The elf looked at the paper: It appeared to be some kind of journal…

* * *

Meanwhile, in the Howling Gryphon, Walter was busy preparing for another night's worth of drinking.

He wasn't looking forward to it: The instigation of martial law kept people confined to their houses and too afraid to step outside without attracting the attention of the law. Worse still, with his tavern now empty, Walter had to contend with the new customers. They came in the form of many an off-duty watch soldier. Some of them had been coming for so long, that they now treated the tavern as their exclusive drinking hole. As such many of them were rude and obnoxious to the bartender and his staff.

The bartender frowned. This martial law has been going on for months: Anyone would think they would've found the Chaos cult by now….

Just then, Walter looked up to see Torestorm approach. He appeared to have a large rucksack slung over his back.

"Hey there" the bartender greeted "Heading off somewhere?"

"Yes indeed Walter" the elf replied "I'm going into the wilderness.

"I will be gone for a few days" he said bluntly "To track someone down. Send word to the other Reavers when they return. Goodbye"

And with that, he strode off and out of the tavern leaving Walter standing in stunned silence.

"Very…well…then..." he managed to say "….Sure…."

* * *

Dimitri and Fanriel continued deeper and deeper into the ruined passageways. As they journeyed on, more of the unfamiliar runes began appearing on the walls of the passageway. They continued their never-ceasing glow, but didn't show any sign of how this glow was achieved.

For the two adventurers, it was the only guide they had so best not to question it.

As the bounty hunter made his way through the catacombs, the elf followed with her eyes focused on the journal.

"You read this?" Fanriel asked Dimitri "Seems our knight friend encountered Calarion beforehand"

Dimitri said nothing.

"Seems they forced information about some kind of ring out of them" the elf went on "I thought the warriors of Bretonnia were more honourable than that!"

Dimitri remained silent.

Fanriel's face grew with annoyance but she went on reading.

Then her eyes widened.

"Wait a moment" she said to Dimitri "This place does indeed predate human settlement on Sartosa."

The bounty hunter turned around, his face suddenly interested.

"These chambers make up the ruined Dwarven Hold Karak Thindrongol" Fanriel went on "The only way in there is the Aquilonian Path, one of the…by Asuryan! Paths of the Old Ones?"

The elf blinked in astonishment before reading on.

"And in the hold is the Chamber of the Gods…"

* * *

Konrad knelt down before a tall mass of white robes.

"My lord" he said.

"I may require your assistance Konrad" Zharradan said "I'm going on a journey"

The cultist raised his head.

"My lord?"

"My new found ally wishes to speak to me" the sorcerer explained.

"What?" the cultist growled "He's here?"

"No!" Zharradan said sharply "I will go to meet him. We will meet in the astral plane, where we will converse in spirit form."

"My lord?" Konrad asked "Is it wise to trust a necromancer?"

"I have no reason to fear him" the sorcerer explained "And if he can provide some degree of usefulness then we will let him live for now."

"And besides" he continued "I have no reason to fear whatever mastery Zeru has of the black arts.

"Why should I when I have the Great Sorcerer on my side…"

* * *

Before the warriors was a gaping pit. It stretched out a short distance before them, a mass of brown mud awaiting at the bottom.

And on the other side stood a man. He was dressed in red travelling leathers, wore a battered breast plate and proudly displayed a long moustache and a well-used blade.

The man flicked his head around to confront the Kislevite and the elf. Within seconds his face paled.

"You!" he shouted, jabbing a finger in Dimitri's direction.

The bounty hunter's eyes hardened.

"Friend of yours?" Fanriel asked.

"Boris the Demented" Dimitri replied "Wanted for piracy, theft and blackmail."

The bounty hunter turned to the man named Boris.

"There's price on your head and I intend to claim it!"

"Who the hell are you?" Boris sneered "Some kind of would-be lunatic after some easy money? Ha!"

A reply came in the form of a crossbow bolt – one that slammed into the criminal. It smashed into Brois' breastplate and penetrated into his flesh. The criminal screamed in pain as the blood began to flow.

"Oh no" Dimitri said "I'm not that."

"Never!" shrieked the man named Boris "I will never bow down to the laws of the Empire! You'll never take me!"

Dimitri began to move to engage the criminal but suddenly Fanriel tugged on his arm.

"Wait!" she whispered "I can hear something…"

Boris however was already moving: He began to run down the corridor.

But he didn't get far – for a new shape emerged from the shadows.

Much to his horror, the criminal found himself face to face with a grinning skull. A skull that belonged to an armoured figure, bedecked in rotting metal, decaying robes and clutching a halberd covered in rust.

Boris cried out in fear, as he found himself suddenly confronted by an unexpected foe.

"A wight!" Fanriel observed "Seems our necromancer friend is already way ahead of us"

The criminal meanwhile, gripped his sword tightly.

"You're in my way!" he yelled.

The wight did not reply. Instead, it brought it's weapon down onto Boris's skull. The blow struck with such force that the criminal was sent staggering backwards, reeling with the pain.

Boris then looked over his shoulder to see the elf and the bounty hunter leap over the pit – the latter, he could see, had eyes that burned with ferocious determination.

Taking in a strong breathe of air, Boris took action. Having been in this type of situation before, he did what he'd always done previously:

He ran.

Ducking out of the wight's reaching distance, the criminal turned and fled – back towards the two mercenaries.

"What on earth!" Fanriel exclaimed.

Dimitri move to intercept his target.

But Boris was too quick: Driving on instincts that had been forged from constant running from the law, he dashed towards the elf and the bounty hunter. Then, through the quickest of movements, he dived, feet first for the floor.

With speed built up from his flight, he slid towards the two mercenaries and right in between them both. The two warriors were caught by surprise as the criminal slid past them and out of reach.

Dimitri glared at the man with a look that would turn blood to water. But Boris took no notice: Instead he got to his feet and kept running – he had no idea where he was going but he figured anywhere was good enough just as long as it doesn't have wights or crazed bounty hunters.

Seeing the pit ahead of him, the criminal made a leap over it: he launched himself into the air….

…..But this time, his luck ran out. Boris' leap was an appalling one: Through taking off into the air, the criminal stumbled off balance. Seconds later, he found himself crashing to the bottom of the pit.

Meanwhile, up above, the two mercenaries found themselves confronted by the Wight. The bounty hunter's eye had followed Boris all the way to the pit – now it was showing some sign of concern.

At the expense of everything around him.

"Dimitri!" came a shout.

The Kislevite looked up to see the Wight, continuing on with it's advance.

"That criminal isn't the only foe we have to face here!" Fanriel said.

Without batting an eyelid, the bounty hunter loaded another quarrel in his crossbow with quick precision. Then, he raised and fired.

At point blank range, the quarrel had no chance of missing – and the Wight had no chance of enduring it: The bolt smashed through armour and bone alike, sending shards scattering in all directions.

Such was the force of the quarrel that the Wight was sent crumbling lifelessly away, the bones giving way and the rotting armour deteriorating.

Fanriel looked at the bounty hunter, her expression stunned.

Dimitri merely turned and headed over to the pit. Calmly loading another crossbow quarrel, he peered over the edge….

Boris was lying at the pit in the mud. He was crawling around upon his elbows and groaning with pain. The criminal's leg was bloodied and appeared to be broken.

He looked up to see the bounty hunter.

"You'll never take me alive!" he shouted in defiance.

Dimitri responded by firing his crossbow.

* * *

Meanwhile, two pairs of evil eyes were gazing into the valley before them.

In the valley, was something that resembled a village: It consisted of several buildings, a surrounding defensive stockade and a watchtower. But as these constructs were so crudely manufactured, these buildings could've been anything.

But the crude buildings betrayed their creator's origins: Who else but the Orcs could live in such squalor?

The village was indeed home to a tribe of Orcs, most of whom were engaging in a regular day's activities: Some were wandering among the muddied streets of the village. Some were shouting loudly as possible and engaging in fist-fights just for the hell of it. Some were chewing meat and guzzling stolen Dwarf beer. Some were trying to keep some of the, equally restless, boars under control (a foolhardy pursuit indeed). And others still were shouting praises to Gork and Mork in equal measure.

But none of the Orcs ever suspected they were being watched.

"So this is it?" Zharradan asked. He was dressed in white robe and a hood, one that concealed his features entirely.

"Precisely" Zeru replied "This is the village of the Black Axes"

"Have any of the humans in Weissbruck found it?"

"Of course not"

The Chaos Warlord eyed his new-found ally with suspicion. Not there was much to see: He was dressed in black robe and a hood, one that concealed his features entirely.

Having been told of this was a surprise indeed. Knowing something that his opponent has seeking without success was an advantage of sorts – but that was still no reason to hand over his trust to his unexpected ally on a silver platter.

"I suspected that the village would've sent trackers or mercenaries to find it" Zharradan said "Seeing as they have been constantly attacked"

"I'm afraid it's not that simple" the necromancer said "For you see, a dark power favours the Orcs"

The Chaos Warlord raised an eyebrow, his interested piqued.

"A Dark Power?" he echoed "Do go on"

"This entire valley is cursed" Zeru explained "It was once the site of a great battle.

"This was the area where the village of Beckerhoven once stood. It was here that the legendary necromancer Dieter Helsnicht crushed an alliance of Middenland, Nordland and Kislev soldiers. The village was razed to the ground and Helsnicht's forces swelled with the arising of the freshly dead."

"I thought Dieter Helsnicht lost the battle at Beckerhoven" Zharradan accused "That's what history dictates."

"Imperial propaganda!" Zeru snapped dismissively "The Empire only wants its people to believe what they want them to believe! They don't know the truth!"

"And I suppose you do?"

"Of course" the necromancer hissed "Hidden beneath the earth is an artefact of great power. It is the blade of the Doomlord himself: The Dark-Shard. It lies buried deep within the earth under decades of time.

"It is a wicked weapon always thirsting for blood and influencing those around it – the Orcs have satisfied it's lust with their raids and, as a result, the sword has used it's power to protect them from any over-curious humans."

"I like the sound of that" The Chaos Warlord grinned

"With a sword of such power you could be unstoppable!" Zeru added.

"How right you are"

And Zharradan chuckled to himself as the necromancer looked on.

All too easy….

* * *

Before the warriors stood a statue. It was nestled within an alcove in the corridor. Around the statue, the runes continued their way across the walls on either side.

At first glance, the statue took the form of an angelic shape. Yet upon closer examination, the carving was unusual on two accounts: First it was carved from ebony and second, it had a conspicuous lack of carved features, exemplified with the wings, robes and face.

Fanriel examined the statue with a close eye.

"So what do you think this is?" she asked the bounty hunter.

Dimitri said nothing.

The elf sighed with exasperation.

"You can talk to me you know" she said "You did to Torestorm and Jarek"

The bounty hunter still chose to remain silent.

"You're not helping…." The elf groaned.

Dimitri heaved a sigh detonating his lack of interest and moved past the statue.

"Huh?" Fanriel started "Hey wait!"

Suddenly, without warning, a soft moan began crawling through the air.

Both the mercenaries turned their attention to this intruding noise, their eyes trying to detect some kind of source. Eventually, their eyes fell on the statue.

There, a soft pink light emitted from the carving: The light glowered from where the eyes would've been.

"Did you do that?" Fanriel demanded.

But before, the bounty hunter could answer a soft growl pierced the air.

And emerging from the darkness, from behind the mercenaries, came a hideous creature. It was a mass of pink flesh but it appeared to have no concise form: It had no body only a mess of disjointed arms, teeth and claws.

Her eyes full of alarm, Fanriel turned to Dimitri.

"What the hell is that?"

"It's a Horror" the bounty hunter replied "A daemon of the Ruinous Powers"

It was then that Fanriel noticed something unusual.

The Kislevite was actually turning pale.

"Dimitri?" the elf said urgently "What's wrong?"

"I have fought these before…" he said "Many times before…"

"So you've killed these beasties many times then yes?" Fanriel asked, drawing her sword.

And, without waiting for an answer, she dived into battle, sword at the ready.

But the Horror was ready: Magical bolts of energy burst from its fingertips, growing with intensity with each passing second. Suddenly, before the elf had time to react, a burst of energy shrieked its way from the Horror's hands engulfing Fanriel. Within seconds, the elf's limbs were petrified, leaving her frozen to the spot.

With Fanriel unable to move, the Horror tuned its attention to Dimitri.

The Kislevite hadn't moved – for being transfixed by the daemon of Tzeentch.

Dimitri stood his ground – he'd fought Horrors before….. Both here and in Kislev. They were the disciples of the Great Schemer and…..the enemy…..

He could see the enemy's face, as he had done so a thousand times before. His face was laughing, mocking the bounty hunter's efforts to catch him…..

The bounty hunter ground his teeth – This isn't the first time he'd fought Horrors.

It shouldn't be any different….

And with a roar he gripped his axe and charged for the Horror.

With a mighty swing Dimitri brought the axe down into, what appeared to be, the daemon's skull. The axe's blade cleaved through flesh and bone and buried itself deep in the daemon. The spawn of Tzeentch screeched with pain – a screech that died down to a rattle. And then it collapsed in a heap at the bounty hunter's feet.

And with the death of the Horror, the spell imprisoning Fanriel was broken. The elf came stumbling forward back into reality, before quickly regaining her composure.

"Dimitri!" she exclaimed "What happened?"

The bounty hunter didn't answer. Instead he pointed to the corpse of the Horror that lay at his feet.

"You got him" she said.

The bounty hunter said nothing. Instead he turned and walked away.

* * *

The chamber was a large one: It boasted a ceiling that towered high above the two warriors. Halfway across the room, the floor was raised with a small flight of stairs connecting the two areas. And at the other end of the room was a massive pair of double doors. These doors betrayed an ancient, ornate construction, decorated with strange carvings. But most striking of all, the doors looked not to be carved from wood but some kind of stone. As such the doors appeared heavy and difficult to shift: there were no handles or any possible way of opening these doors.

And before the doors was the crazed knight Phillippe. At his side was a plinth where upon a gold plate rested.

The knight flicked his head around to see the two warriors as they entered the room. A twisted smile made his way across his lips.

"Ah at last, you have come to see the light of reason" he said. Waving his hand towards the plate, he continued:

"Come, my purple vegetables, spill your liquids into here, yes, in here, the dish of holy un-darkness, and I will be free of this madhouse of lunatic bird-people!"

"What on earth are you talking about?' Fanriel demanded.

But if the knight heard the elf, he certainly didn't show it – instead he continuing raving:

"They will eat preciously, my angels, and I will cause the caterwauling of all time and table-ness!"

"What do we do?" Fanriel asked Dimitri "Whatever he's up to, he doesn't seem like he'll let us leave"

Oblivious, Phillippe kept rambling:

"Naturally, brown leaves in chimneys are cloth and brick made. Of course, considering the tallness of mushrooms and the fastidiousness of gable-pigs, pages will be devoured and bears will squonk."

Turning around to face the warriors, he drew his sword.

"And now, small chair legs, ravens and writing desks, I will dine on gyre and gimble in the wabe!'"

But he never uttered another word: For a crossbow quarrel come hurtling through the air, right for his unprotected head. The quarrel landed in the dead centre of the knight's forehead, smashing apart his skull and grinding into his brain.

The mad knight staggered backwards by the force of the blow but only briefly – For it only took those mere seconds before his mind told him he was dead.

And thus the knight that was once Phillipe de Lyonesse collapsed in a bloodied heap.

"You certainly have a blunt way of doing things don't you?" Fanriel asked Dimitri.

The bounty hunter said nothing. Instead, his gaze was now focused on the giant doors before them.

"Only something called the Chamber of the Gods could possibly be on the other side of those doors" the elf murmured.

"So" she then said "How do we open it?"

Dimitri said nothing but he nodded towards the journal that was resting in the elf's belt.

Fanriel reached down, pulled the journal out and flicked through the pages.

"Here!" she said eventually, pointing to a certain page. Scratched in ink was an image of the great doors.

"It says here" the elf went on "that to open these doors we need a ring…."

The elf then felt the bounty hunter touch her arm: His other arm indicated towards the plate upon the plinth: There a golden ring was resting upon it.

Satisfied, Fanriel continued:

"…as well as….'the blood of the pure'?"

Dimitri gave the elf a funny look.

"It's exactly what's said here!" she protested.

The Kislevite shrugged.

"So how do we obtain the 'blood of the pure'?"

Dimitri pointed at his hand.

"What?" Fanriel said aghast "You mean our own blood?"

The bounty hunter didn't reply – instead he looked towards the two great doors. Fanriel sighed.

"Very well" she said "If it means getting out of here"

She pulled a glove from her hand before drawing forth a knife.

Solemnly, she advanced to the plinth, her face showing no sign of fear or doubt. Slowly she placed the knife's edge across her palm…..

…when she suddenly felt Dimitri's hand grasp her wrist.

She looked up to the bounty hunter.

"Thank you" he said.

The elf blinked in surprise before nodding.

And then, with a slow motion, she cut the blade across her hand.

Fanriel grit her teeth. The pain was terrible to behold but she carried on with this grim task. She could feel herself growing ever so faint but she fought it.

The blood spilled into the plate and engulfed the ring.

And then, the room began shuddering – sightly at first but growing with intensity with each passing second.

"What the…" the elf started.

Suddenly, massive crack of light split it's way in-between the two doors.

And then, the great doors shuddered with great force.

And then, they slowly split apart from each other, slowly sliding in opposite directions, opening up to reveal a mass of bright light that engulfed the room…..


	12. Bitter and Twisted: Confrontation

**Bitter and Twisted**

**VI**

**Confrontation**

_H__e ran on wings of fear…._

_He could hear them coming for him…._

_The sound of their feet coming after him, growing louder as they neared….._

_He couldn't escape them no matter how hard he tried. _

_They always found him no matter how far he ran…._

_He could feel his legs tire but he tried to ignore them….._

_But he could still hear the clanking metal thunder behind him…._

_He could feel the fear grasp him, the sweat running down his forehead…._

_And then, a hand reached out to grab him….._

_

* * *

_

Zharradan sat bolt upright, breathing heavily.

It had come to him again: The recurring dream that had come many times before. Only now, it was appearing more frequently and with greater intensity: What was once a fleeting image was now becoming more clear and more real.

Real enough to touch….

The sorcerer reached up and brushed his hand against his face.

His fingers detected the distinctive touch of feathers but he was used to it by now.

It was clear: The enemy was coming closer

Zharradan grinned an evil grin. The enemy may be coming for him but he's not going without a fight.

After all, it's a fool's hope to outsmart a devotee of Tzeentch.

The sorcerer lay back down, to return to sleep.

Zharradan knew the nightmare will return but this time he seemed hardly bothered.

This time, he will welcome it….

* * *

Dimitri shielded his eyes against the bright light that streamed in from the doorway. Squinting beyond his fingers, the Kislevite struggled to make sense of what lay beyond.

"Can you see something?" he heard the elf ask "Anything?"

For a while, the light glowed with seemingly impenetrable intensity. Slowly however the bounty hunter's eyes grew accustomed to the light – enough to start seeing shapes….

"I think I can see something!" he heard Fanriel say.

And from the glare emerged the outline of a structure. As the bounty hunter's eyes grew to adapt with the glaring light, more imagery slowly emerged.

And the structure revealed itself: It was a tall building. One that appeared to be constructed from marble and boasted a roof shaped in a dome. The front of the building was betrayed in the form of a series of tall pillars, surrounding a rectangular entranceway.

But what was particularly striking about the building was that even though the structure looked familiar, the manufacture was unfamiliar. The building showed no sign of being built with human, elf or dwarf hands.

It also bore an age that seemed beyond that of regular comprehension and a sense of reverence – the type that could only come from a temple. Even the bounty hunter was struck with a sense that he was treading on sacred ground.

Dimitri turned to see the elf step into view. Her eyes were locked on the building, her face one of awe.

"By Asuryan" she breathed "I have never seen anything like this…."

Fanriel then turned to the Kislevite.

"Do we go in?"

"If our man is in there" came the blunt reply "Then that's exactly what we do"

"I don't know" the elf said "Treading here… just feels…"

"Wrong?" Dimitri replied.

The elf nodded.

The bounty hunter said nothing. Instead he began moving forward.

"Wait!" Fanriel exclaimed "You…"

"There doesn't seem to be any way out behind us" the Kislevite declared.

And with that he kept walking.

Fanriel blinked before following.

* * *

_The woman was dressed in robes of gold and white. A shower of long blonde hair cascaded down past her shoulders. _

_Before her stood a ravaged landscape, made up of broken scorched earth. At her feet, were bloodied bodies, pieces of bone, discarded weapons and scraps of ruined armour. Above her, the sky glowered with a sinister fire. _

_The warrior lowered his sword and knelt down before her. _

"_Milady" he said "I have come on your command"_

_The woman flicked her head around, revealing a face of ageless beauty and wisdom beyond comprehension. _

_And below her face was a blue and gold breastplate, dented with battle scars but still proudly displaying the symbol of Tzeentch. _

"_Grigori" the woman said "I've seen your skills on this day."_

_Her voice sound like wine pouring from a pitcher – the type laced with arsenic. It possessed a seductive quality but at the same resonated with an authority and wisdom that stretched for many years. _

"_Tell me" she said "What do you seek in this life?" _

"_I seek glory!" the warrior said without any hesitation "I seek to be the greatest champion Kislev has ever seen!"_

"_Then join me" the woman answered "I've seen you fight and my banner would welcome someone of your skills"_

_The warrior did not reply._

"_Join me and you will become the champion that you wish to be" the woman went on "Refuse and…"_

"_No" _

_The reply was small but sharp: Enough to stop the woman dead in her tracks._

"_What?"_

"_I refuse your offer" the warrior growled._

"_I wouldn't be so hasty" _

"_I would"_

"_Think carefully about this" the woman purred, her voice resonating with some degree of restraint "You will become the greatest hero Kislev has ever seen! Surpassing even the likes of Boris Ursus!"_

"_And dare tread into the Chaos Wastes?" the warrior growled back "I think not._

"_I'd rather become a champion on my own terms"_

"_You can't stay here forever" the woman argued "My masters are amassing their forces. The Everchosen is summoning all of Chaos to his banner. He is building a force the likes of which has never been seen before! _

"_Kislev can't keep standing against the constant attacks from the north. Join us or risk being on the losing side."_

_The warrior said nothing. Instead he turned away and started walking. _

"_You dare refuse my offer?" the woman snarled, a burst of blue flame igniting within her palms. _

_The warrior kept walking, never once turning around._

_The woman glared with ferocity. Incensed, she prepared to cast a fireball….._

…_but then she paused. No, such a move would be a waste of magic..._

_Looking to the sky, she began mouthing silent words…._

_

* * *

_

"They're coming for us Konrad"

The cultist raised an eyebrow at his master's words.

"What are you talking about?' he asked "Who's coming?"

"They're coming to kill us"

"The undead?" the cultist asked urgently "You've had a vision?"

The two cultists were standing in front of an ancient temple. It revealed nothing of its origins or its craftsmanship, save only a sense of age that stretched back for many centuries. Ahead and all around, was a mist of green, engulfing everything in a thick cloud and making difficult to determine anything.

"They want our heads" Zharradan replied, betraying no indication whether he was listening or not "They want to claim us"

"They're going to betray us?" Konrad demanded "Is that it?"

The sorcerer then grabbed the cultist by the shoulders and shook him fiercely. The cultist blinked as he was confronted with the sight of two eyes blazing with unbreakable conviction.

"They're coming to take us back to the land of skulls!" Zharradan growled "They want us to join their legions! We must not let that happen!"

"We won't my lord!" Konrad insisted.

Zharradan loosened his grip and smiled.

"Good" he murmured.

Konrad's brow furrowed but he said nothing.

* * *

Meanwhile, many miles away, an elven sorcerer was running his fingers across a shelf of books.

Althion was deep in thought. Rumours were beginning to swell of Chaos on the march. Already people were talking of armoured warriors bedecked in blue and gold roaming up north, plundering some small settlements.

It had been six years since the Storm of Chaos when Archaon massed the hordes and led them deep into the Old World. Since then, the civilised nations of man have never really recovered from the blow.

Of course Althion didn't really see the loss of human lives as a great loss but in the end, all races must stand together against the endless swarm of Chaos. As such, many elves and dwarves lay dead in the ground alongside the many men who gave their lives to stop Archaon's hordes.

And in some ways, the nations of men serve as a substantial barrier against the constant march of Chaos.

Still, the threat of Chaos is something that needs to be taken seriously. That thought alone made him consider what needs to be done.

Althion then thought of the mercenaries he had hired: The Dragonfire Reavers. They had parted company once the job he'd paid them paid for, the downfall of the Moonshadow Carnival, was done. He hadn't heard much of them since.

Now that he thought of it, small rumours were proliferating of the mercenaries were chasing an artefact buried beneath some abandoned Dwarf hold in the Reikwald Forest.

Althion frowned at the thought: It was no artefact they were chasing….

The elf paused, his mind whirling like a Dwarven machine.

It may be time to re-establish contact. The threat of Chaos can't be ignored: Action must be taken.

But now, things were different. He had heard from the Watch that Gognak had been murdered and, if the reports Althion had been receiving were correct, Lilly appeared to have retired from adventuring, spending a large amount of time at the Temple of Shallya. Thus the Reavers are now depleted in number.

Althion paused, his facial expression one of deep thought.

Perhaps it was time to call in some additional help….

* * *

"I think I see something" Konrad said.

"Where?"

"Over there!" the cultist said, jabbing a finger into the mist "Someone's coming."

And emerging from the mist came seven shapes: They were humanoid in shape but moved with slow, measured and even unfamiliar, movements.

"It's him" Zharradan growled.

"Your command, milord?" Konrad asked.

"Head back to the surface" Zharradan growled "Gather the men and prepare them for a journey. Tell them to wait for my return"

"And then?"

"Glory awaits!"

"What are you going to do?" Konrad asked, his face wary.

"If this necromancer thinks he can betray me" the sorcerer growled "He's got another thing coming"

"Are you sure?"

"I can handle this!" Zharradan snapped "I have the powers of the Great Sorcerer at my command! I have no fear of any Necromancer's party tricks!"

Konrad nodded and turned away. He headed down along the wall of the temple before disappearing into the mist.

And then, the seven shapes stepped into view. Six of them were wights, bedecked in rotting armour and clutching decaying halberds. They marched in a semi-circular formation around a tall figure – one who was dressed in black that kept his features hidden from view.

The undead procession stopped before Zharradan.

"Zeru" the sorcerer greeted.

"I see you've found the place" the necromancer responded.

"Yes indeed" Zharradan answered "I'm here. Now would you be so kind as to explain what this is all about?"

"This temple" Zeru explained "Dates back to the time of the Old Ones. It was believed to be buried many years ago but here it is, perfectly preserved."

"So what's so special about this place?"

"It is believed that this temple is home to a great power" the necromancer explained "A great power that exists within its own rules.

"Hence this mist and this temple's preservation"

Zharradan said nothing but looked up at the temple in impressed awe.

"When the temple was threatened" Zeru explained "The power of the Dragon Fire brought the temple back into the earth to protect it from evil hands.

"But the legend endured. The pirates of Sartosa may have built their settlements completely unaware of what lay beneath. The Dwarves who built their outpost over that cavern had no idea of the connection between it and this island."

"And the Bitterwind Rose?" Zharradan asked.

"They were getting too close for my liking" Zeru said bluntly "Had to get rid of them"

A small pause descended between the two magic users. Slowly, Zharradan, could feel his fingers close around the hilt of a dagger.

"So what now?" the sorcerer demanded.

"You have done me a favour in riding those elves for me" Zeru replied "I should at least offer you my thanks"

"Keep it"

There was a nasty silence.

"What?" the necromancer asked.

"You really expect me to walk away after telling me of this great power?"

"Of course not" Zeru growled "I expect you to die"

And with that, he drew forth an ancient but still-wicked looking blade. The wights, sensing the necromancer in danger, gripped their halberds and moved slowly around the Chaos sorcerer, to encircle him.

Zharradan however didn't bat an eyelid.

"So the alliance is over?" he said in measured tones "Somehow, I'm not surprised."

Raising his hand, he snapped his fingers.

And then, without warning, a trio of shapes emerged from the shadows. They were humanoid in shape but distorted to the point of hideousness. They had multiple arms travelling in all directions, wide mouths boasting teeth of enormous size, tentacles of varying colours and flesh of pink. All characteristics that betrayed these newcomers as Horrors of Tzeentch.

The Horrors moved to protect Zharradan but Zeru seemed unperturbed.

"Allies huh?" the necromancer sneered "Think I care for daemons?"

"I wouldn't be so confident!" the sorcerer shot back.

"I would! I've lived many, many years and I've fought daemons before! They bleed like the rest of the living!"

"Then let's see how your pitiful necromancy lasts against the power of the true sorcerer!"

And with these words, the Horrors launched themselves at the Wights.

Gazing at their new foes with unseeing eyes, the wights showed no fear or any reaction. Instead they gripped their rusted weapons and attacked.

The Horrors warped features struck the rusted armour of the undead but to little avail. Then one Wight dealt it's halberd down upon one Horror: The blade struck hard, cleaving through the pink flesh and bone.

The Horror staggered back several steps from the blow - before toppling backwards and collapsing into a heap.

But what happened next was completely unexpected: The corpse of the Horror shuddered with movement, in spite of it being very dead. The flesh squirmed and lifeless joints began twisting with unnatural intensity.

And then suddenly, something burst forth from the corpse: It was a blue hand attached to a blue arm. And within seconds, and the tearing of flesh, a creature burst forth from the Pink Horror. It resembled the Pink Horror but was smaller and coloured blue. The Blue Horror stepped away from the corpse, just as a second one ripped it's way forth through the remnants of the Pink Horror.

But if the undead were in any way bothered, they certainly didn't show it. Lifting their rusted weapons, two of the wights confronted the Blue Horrors. And then, guided solely by the necromancy that held them together, the halberds descended in unison upon the two Horrors.

The Daemons were struck by the weapons with such a force that they couldn't hope to resist: The Blue Horrors were killed instantly, being sent sprawling onto the temple floor in a bloody mess.

Nearby, the second Pink Horror had also fallen underneath the blows of the wights. And much like the first, a pair of Blue Horrors had emerged in the daemon's wake.

The remaining Pink Horror let loose a sinister growl as blue fire emerged from his hands. The fire burst from the daemon's palms and began travelling up his arms, growing with intensity with each passing second.

The Horror clasped its hands together and the fire exploded: This then gave way to the fire forming the shape of a fireball. The Horror than prepared to throw this conflagration…..

But what happened next happened very quickly: The fireball began sparking and quivering in an unstable fashion. And then, without warning, the ball exploded, taking the Pink Horror with it.

Zharradan's eyes widened at the sight of the Horror being taken out. Quickly he spun around - just in time to see the Blue Horrors being cut down.

Looking around, the sorcerer realised he was the last one left standing.

The last one against six wights and necromancer.

"You're a fool to challenge me!" Zeru snarled "What hope do you have when I can summon more of the dead under my will at a single thought?"

"You can't challenge the will of the Great Sorcerer!"

"Ha!" the necromancer mocked "You're surrounded and outnumbered!

"Where's your Great Schemer now? Bet he can hear you deep within the earth!"

Suddenly, one of the wights toppled forward and came crashing down to the floor.

"What the…?" Zeru shouted.

"Who?" the Zharradan demanded.

Both the sorcerer and the necromancer turned towards the mist – to see a Kislevite emerge into view. In his hand was a well-used crossbow and at his side was a she-elf.

* * *

The Kislevite paused – but then, his eyes caught sight of the sorcerer.

"You!" Dimitri growled, his face growing with rage.

"You again?" Zeru snapped.

Fanriel blinked in astonishment – at first it was seeing her companion's face grow tense in ways she had never seen before.

The sorcerer blinked before smiling an evil smile.

"Back for more are you?" Zharradan crowed "I figured you would've given up the chase by now!"

Fanriel turned to Dimitri.

"You two know each other?"

"We've fought each other many times before" the bounty hunter replied.

"What the hell's going on here?" Zeru demanded but no one seemed to hear him.

Forgetting about the undead entirely, Zharradan slowly made his way to the door.

"You've come to claim me haven't you?" the sorcerer said.

Dimitri said nothing. Instead he quickly loaded another bolt into the crossbow. Unperturbed, the sorcerer continued:

"Well I've got news for you: I'm not going back. Turn around and give up this futile chase. You will…"

"NEVER!" the Kislevite shouted.

And with that, he fired the crossbow: The bolt struck the sorcerer dead on the shoulder sending him staggering backwards from the force of the blow. Zharradan clutched his wound in pain – but then he looked up and smiled.

"Then you're a fool" he said softly.

And with such words, a ring of fire burst from underneath the sorcerer. Within seconds, the flames shot upwards, engulfing the sorcerer completely.

Dimitri blinked and sprint forward, his face showing signs of familiarity.

The bounty hunter leapt forward as the flames increased height.

But it was too late: As the bounty hunter sailed through the air, the flames died down to the ground. Within seconds, they were gone, leaving no trace of the flame, or the sorcerer, left.

Dimitri blinked before his face grew twisted with frustration.

"So close…." He groaned.

"So close!" he echoed, his voice loud and twisted with rage.

He slammed his fist on the ground.

The Kislevite then looked up…

….to see a series of dead smiles etched on the faces of the wights…..

* * *

"So how do you intend to find this…Ruthenis?" Saraielle asked.

"Rumours suggest he was in the area" Torestorm replied "We simply just comb the areas surrounding Weissbruck for any potential clues"

"Relying on rumours?" the bard replied with a frown "That's hardly the best solution"

The outcast said nothing.

The two elves were hiking through the forest. All around them was snow: It engulfed the trees concealing their leaves. It crunched under the feet of the two elves. All around, everything was coated in white hiding much of the green that made up the forest.

For now, the two elves made their way across a small clearing. The journey had so far proven uneventful.

But Saraielle could sense something was wrong: Her companion had been acting strangely for the past while: He had grown unusually silent and his eyes were darting left and right.

"You do realise it's going to hard to find clues in amongst this snow" the bard said.

"I will find him" Torestorm replied, his voice betraying steely determination.

But for Saraielle, it seemed confused with something else.

With a sigh of frustration, she stepped out in front of the outcast.

"What's the matter?" the bard demanded "You're acting strangely!"

"We're being followed" Torestorm replied softly "Someone has been pursuing me since I left Weissbruck"

"Are you certain?"

And as if in reply, a shout rang out from behind.

"Hey!"

The two elves quickly looked over Torestorm's shoulder.

There, on the edge of the clearing, stood a man. Behind him, many more men were seen emerging from the forest.

* * *

The wights surrounded the bounty hunter as he lay prostrate on the ground.

The necromancer paused, wondering what to do next. His worthless ally had gone but at the same time the power he had been seeking was finally in reach.

The fact that he also had the chance to put an end to the troublesome Reavers was a bonus indeed.

He looked up to see the she-elf running over, loading a bolt into her own crossbow as she went.

Zeru meanwhile growled his contempt.

"The sorcerer fled" he observed, making sure his words were within earshot of the bounty hunter "Why am I not surprised"

As the necromancer anticipated, the Kislevite growled with frustration. Then, in an act of defiance, he drew his axe. The wights responded by driving the blades of their halberds downward.

His gaze then turned to the two mercenaries

"As for you" he growled "You Reavers have gotten in my way for the last time. But I won't be stopped now!"

And with that he turned and headed for the temple, the six wights closing the circle even tighter around the bounty hunter.

"Dimitri!" Fanriel shouted. Raising her crossbow, she fired.

The bolt screamed through the air, before slamming into the nearest wight – directly into it's head. The skull was struck with such force that it shattered into shards of bone, scattering in all directions.

The wight crumbled into a heap – thus giving enough space for the Kislevite enough time to act: Thinking quickly, he struck his foot out at the nearest wight. The undead was struck in the shin – such was the force of the blow that the wight was sent staggering off-balance.

The wight staggered backwards out of the circle – before getting smashed in the face by the hilt of Fanriel's sword.

The bone was smashed under the weight of the blow and a second wight fell.

Dimitri scrambled out of the circle and got to his feet, axe in hand. He turned to the elf as she ran to his side.

"Spa`sibo" the bounty hunter said.

Hoping it was a compliment, the elf nodded with a smile.

The two warriors then faced the four wights that now stood before them.

And charged….

* * *

Before the necromancer stood a throne.

Although he had lived for many years, far beyond the restrictions of a mortal life, and seen many things in that time, the necromancer could only gape in awe and wonder: The throne was an impressive sight indeed being carved out of solid gold. Strangely, it showed signs of craftsmanship that Zeru couldn't recognise and an age far beyond the comprehension of the necromancer's extended lifespan.

Amazingly, it seemed untouched by age or showed any signs of possible robbing from greedy hands.

No matter, this was the very thing he had been seeking all this time. At last, the fabled 'ultimate power' was in reach.

Zeru had no idea what the power actually was: It was true that he was only here through extensive research but whilst that time spent yielded the location of this throne, the promise of ultimate power and the connection with the Old Ones, nothing the Necromancer found actually suggested _what_ the power actually _did_.

This thought was enough to make Zeru pause. What if this was a trap? What if it was all a lie, a scam to ensnare the foolish and greedy?

But then the necromancer shook his head: He hadn't come this far to give up now! He will grasp this power when it is within his reach!

And if it truly is a trap then there's only one way to find out….

With movements leaden with purpose, the Necromancer hurried to the throne and immediately sat down upon it.

He paused, taking the moment in.

Seconds passed with nothing happening.

Zeru could feel his brow furrow – where was this power he'd been promised?

It was coming, right?

Suddenly, he could feel a rumbling. It seemed distant but, as he listened, it grew louder and more intense with each passing second.

The rumbling seemed be drawing closer to the temple, sending tremors through the temple and the throne.

Zeru blinked in astonishment but then he smiled.

"It's coming…" he murmured.

The necromancer then threw his arms wide open as the rumbling grew closer.

"Here I am!" he cried "Grant me your power!"

Suddenly, without warning, the necromancer was hurled from the throne! Guided by an unseen, yet incredible, force he sailed through the air and across the floor of the temple. The necromancer flew like someone struck from a blow across the face….

As the necromancer was cast from the temple, the rumbling slowly died down, leaving the throne remaining untouched.

* * *

Dimitri breathed heavily, a fallen wight at his feet. Nearby, a fourth wight was slowly succumbing to the blows of Fanriel and her blade. The remaining two wights still stood, gazing back at the two mercenaries with unseeing eyes.

Slowly he unslung his crossbow and his well-trained fingers prepared to load another bolt. It seemed insane to shoot a wight at point-blank range but blunt weapons were the type of weapon that felled undead when sharpened weapons failed to succeed.

Besides, there was little that could stand against a point-blank attack.

Suddenly, the bounty hunter's ears caught the sound of something new: It sounded like something heading this way…..

Dimitri flicked his head around to see a black shape come hurtling from the temple.

Zeru came sliding out the temple and across the ground, before eventually coming to a rest at the bounty hunter's feet.

The Necromancer blinked in a daze, his mind struggling to comprehend what had happened…

But he wasn't allowed the luxury of time to do so – for the next thing he knew, he was being grabbed by a hefty hand and hoisted up and off his feet.

Zeru blinked as he found himself locked in the gaze of Dimitri.

The bounty hunter said nothing. Instead he cast his crossbow aside and reached for his belt

The necromancer was aware that the Kislevite could, for the first time, see his face beneath the hood. Strangely, the bounty hunter didn't seem perturbed in the slightest.

Dimitri pulled a dagger from the belt.

And before the necromancer could think about it, slit Zeru's throat in one swift motion.

The necromancer died with a gurgling shriek, coughing up blood with each dying gasp. He slumped forward, centuries of immortality coming to an end in one motion.

And as the necromancer died, the spell holding the two wights together was broken: The two undead crumbled into dust, their bones, weapons and armour disintegrating away in seconds.

Fanriel blinked in surprise before turning to Dimitri.

"What happened?" she demanded.

The bounty hunter said nothing. Instead he cast the body of the necromancer aside. His face, wrecked with disgust, the bounty hunter looked upwards into the swirling mist.

And saw nothing.

The elf paused, her brow furrowed. The journey had ended here: The necromancer was dead, the elves of the Bitterwind Rose had all fallen, the secret that was being pursued so relentlessly had been uncovered.

But somehow the victory had a bitter aftertaste…..

The silence that followed was deafening.

Fanriel then moved towards the bounty hunter and laid a hand on his back.

The Kislevite didn't move.

"I want to see what Zeru and that other human were after for so long" she said "Care to join me?"

Dimitri sighed before nodding.

* * *

"What do you want?" Torestorm demanded.

"Heard there were some elves about" the man growled back "Some elves who'd been raiding some merchants.

"Don't suppose it was you?"

"No wait!" Saraielle exclaimed "That's not us!"

"She's right" Torestorm added "Those elves have been dealt with!"

This caused the man to pause however briefly.

"They're lying!" one of the other men snapped.

"I'm with the Dragonfire Reavers!" Torestorm snapped "You all know me!"

"You can't trust an elf!" another man added.

"I don't like this!" Saraielle said to Torestorm, her voice urgent "We need to be away from here now!"

"What if they're not lying?" the first man asked.

Immediately the men all started speaking at once.

"We're wasting time!"

"All elves look alike!"

"We should just shoot them and claim the bounty!"

"A dead elf is a dead elf! No one will tell the difference!"

"YES!"

And with that, the men all raised their handguns, both aimed at the elves.

"What on earth!" Saraielle exclaimed.

"Saraielle!" Torestorm shouted "Get down!"

And then, the clearing was rocked with the sound of handguns firing…..

* * *

The throne stood before the two mercenaries, still as untouched as it was when Zeru found it.

"…I…..I don't believe it" Fanriel said "Something like this could be located here deep within the earth"

Dimitri said nothing.

"You don't suppose it was this power that cast him out of the temple?" the elf theorised.

The bounty hunter still said nothing.

The elf's face grew with determination.

"I want to see just what is worth all the trouble coming here was for."

And before the bounty hunter could stop her, the elf promptly sat down on the throne.

Seconds passed with nothing happening.

Fanriel looked to Dimitri, a look of anti-climax written across her face. The bounty hunter however looked wary.

"So much for a power" she muttered

Suddenly, the two Reavers could feel a rumbling. It seemed distant but, as they listened, it grew louder and more intense with each passing second.

"What on earth?" Fanriel demanded.

"Something's coming!" Dimitri shouted.

The rumbling seemed be drawing closer to the temple, sending tremors through the temple and the throne.

Suddenly, Fanriel was forced from the throne. Somehow, as if being drawn by a great power, she floated up off the ground into the centre of the room.

"What's happening?" the elf exclaimed, her voice a mixture of awe and shock.

As if in response a shaft of light slammed down from up above, enveloping the elf in a cylinder of bright blue.

Dimitri had his crossbow drawn and trained, ready to respond to any possible dangers.

Fanriel looked up within the light…..

…to see a brightness glowing with intensity come down upon her…..

Immediately the shaft grew brighter and brighter, going from blue to pure white, enveloping the elf completely.

And then, in the blink of an eye, the shaft of light vanished. Fanriel subsequently came crashing down to the floor. The elf hit the floor, breathing heavily.

Dimitri came running over.

"You all right?" he asked "What happened?"

Fanriel mouthed silence before words came tumbling out,

"….I…..I don't know" she said.

The bounty hunter paused before his face hardened.

"Let's get out of here"

* * *

And so, the Reavers left the temple, the elf leaning on the bounty hunter for support.

"I wonder…what the power…was.." Fanriel managed to say.

Dimitri said nothing.

"Think…that throne….. could have…something to…do with it?"

Dimitri still said nothing.

The elf then managed a smile.

"Just think…" she went on "…I could… have….. the power!... I could have….what Calarion…. Zeru… and that other human….couldn't find"

Dimitri continued to remain silent.

"How…about that…eh?"

The bounty hunter paused to cast one last look at the temple - before turning away from it forever.

Somehow, in his heart of hearts, Dimitri knew that nothing will be the same ever again…..

* * *

The two elves came crashing down onto the snow.

Saraielle blinked at the grey sky, her eyes radiating with shock at what had just transpired. It didn't take long before her mind quickly tried to determine whether or not she'd been shot.

Thankfully, her body confirmed the welcome truth: She was unharmed.

But then she realised – the weight that kept her pined down.

Alarm grew in her eyes as she turned to see Torestorm's face.

To the bard's horror, the Outcast's face was ashen with a trickle of blood running down from his lips. In protecting Saraielle, Torestorm had taken the bullets of the humans' handguns full on.

"…Torestorm…" the bard managed to say.

The Outcast didn't reply: Instead he coughed up a mouth of blood.

"…I'm dying…." He managed to say.

Blood began pouring from underneath the two elves, staining the snow red as it went.

Tears began welling up in Saraielle's eyes as all colour began draining from Torestorm's face.

"Don't go!" the bard pleaded, her eyes filled with desperation "Hang in there!"

"It's too late" the outcast whispered "This may be my time coming"

"But you saved my life!" Saraielle said.

"Then at least I did one good thing in this life" Torestorm replied, smiling a bloodied smile.

"Listen" he went on, his voice growing weaker "Before I go I want you to know something: I'm glad to have met you. And seeing you always made everything look so much better"

Saraielle closed her eyes in acknowledgement.

Suddenly, she heard the sound of feet approaching. Flicking her head around, she saw the humans approach.

Her gaze turning to hatred, the bard pulled herself free from underneath Torestorm.

Getting to her feet, she drew her sword.

"If it's a fight you want" she growled "Then a fight you shall have!"

And with that, the bard charged into battle.

Torestorm watched her go before closing his eyes for the last time…

"….Always thought ….there'd be a light…."

**End of Book 1**


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